Working Out Working
by Some1Else
Summary: Boredom takes its toll on our hero, Solid Snake. With consent, he sets out to get his first normal job in years. But can he handle the pressures of a desk job?
1. Idle Conversation

**Story #5 : Working Out Working.**

**By Some1Else.**

**Chapter 1 : Idle Conversation.**

Otacon was walking down one of the many halls in the _Shopety-Shop-Shop Mall_ carrying a plastic sack in his hands. Inside of the weak holding contraption were the first two volumes of a series he'd been wanting to check out for a while. The series was called The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. Snake had recommended it to him two weeks ago at Vulcan Raven's birthday party after consuming far too many drinks. His interest in the series was sufficiently adamant. Not since Stand Alone Complex had Otacon seen Snake so excited about an anime especially when he preferred the movie Predator to just about anything else. Otacon had planned on buying the series anyway and Snake's opinion of it superseded Otacon's cautious habit of renting anime before he bought it.

He knew it was a popular series since he lurked around image boards and stupid blogs so much in his spare time. That was all the anime world needed. Another show that would produce zealous, psychotic fans who would defend it unconditionally through countless shouting matches and meaningless message board brawls until everyone liked it as much as they did. If not for religion, behavior like that would be a major cause of conflict across the globe. Obsessive fanatics always managed to taint anime to the point where it was alienated from more conventional means of entertainment in the eyes of many innocent bystanders. Snake had a casual interest in it compared to Otacon, so his opinion was less biased and probably more honest than any other he would stumble across.

Aside from that, today would most likely wind up being an exercise in mediocrity. Nobody was up for anything and Otacon didn't feel like hanging out with Vamp especially after he'd gotten in trouble for breaking into the local blood bank. Now they were calling Otacon non-stop to get a fresh bag of his O positive blood since they were suddenly so dangerously low. Perhaps he owed them that favor. Vamp always said rare blood tasted better. That's why Otacon wasn't responding to his texts and kept looking over his shoulder as he wandered aimlessly throughout the mall. Donating blood would be a good excuse to ignore everyone for the whole day as he enjoyed doing every now and then to keep his presence fresh. He'd be in high demand any day now, which would be fine just so long as he didn't arrive thirty minutes early and accidentally stumble in on Snake and Meryl playing what Snake had dubbed Snake in the Box.

Just the thought of that memory made him rub at his eyes. All he wanted to do was borrow a video game and a movie. Twelve cardboard boxes had been arranged all around the living room in an order only known to the creator of the game. Meryl suddenly entered and had gestured for Otacon to remain patient while she entertained Snake's most carnal pleasure. She examined the boxes for a moment and began flipping them over. Eventually she had stumbled upon Blitz, who quickly left the room with his tail tucked between his legs. It was then that Snake had popped out of one of the boxes, laughing victoriously. When he noticed Otacon standing in the doorway with a bewildered look on his face, all he could do was offer him a chance to play. Otacon took what he came for and left early.

Sneaking mission withdrawal. That's what Snake had used to explain his game in a bizarre instant messaging conversation later that same day, which was followed up with a list of rules to enforce the validity that it was actually fun. Snake had to do stuff like that to keep his awesome sneaking skills fresh. A familiar jingle erupted from Otacon's pants pocket, bringing him back to the here and now. Someone had sent him a text message. Otacon retrieved his precious Blackberry that he took too much crap for. Everyone jeered at him for always needing to have a keyboard on hand. It personified the time he spent on the computer. Otacon never argued against them as he knew it would be pointless. He just loved the design and it was fun to wait for other people to type in letters with their clumsy numeric pads. Solid Snake had sent him a message.

_I saw you buying anime, dork. Get your ass over to where those damn street performers love to beg for money. Ocelot's there! He's got himself an act! _Snake declared. _I'll join you shortly._

That was a new one and certainly something Otacon knew he needed to see. Ocelot certainly had never said anything about it. Neither had Liquid, and he had pretty much divulged most of Ocelot's secrets by now. Despite that, they still shared the same body willingly. Otacon had heard about Liquid's feeble attempt on Snake's life. He personally took it as a warning even though Liquid seemed to have resigned himself to be pleasantly docile for the immediate future. There was no predicting how that would turn out. Then again, there was no predicting if any of the people who used to be trying to kill them would suddenly decide that was a valuable way to spend their time. All they could do was take them and the friendships they had formed at face value while always being wary that something unthinkable could happen. It wasn't nearly as difficult as it sounded. Even Meryl had finally relented.

Otacon wanted to grab a snack from _Fat In A Week Or Your Money Back _before he did anything else. The ice cream and sticky buns they sold at that place were absolutely delicious. They had to be. It was directly across from _25,000 Calories In One Damn Good Snack, _which was another snack shop that put way too much sugar on their pastries. It was sometimes hard to choose between the two of them. They both tried really hard to attract customers. The first offered free bottles of the glaze and frosting that they put on everything for further enrichment and also always had two EMT's on hand to revive people from sugar coma's and heart attacks. They also passed out edible pamphlets that had the nutritional value of all their food on them. Many of their products were themed like that and on a rotating schedule, which made them fun to visit. The second store had an exclusive deal with _All In the Family_, which was a factory that made many delicious pastries. They pumped out _Grandpa's Donuts_, _Aunt Edna's Mysterious Strudel Cakes_, _Your CEO Will Eat Anything So Long As It Tastes Like Coffee_, and the positively indomitable _Grandma's Buns_, which were enough of a treat on their own.

However, they didn't have a smoothie bar with wicked _Blendtec_ blenders and a variety of real fruit to choose from or the best brownies in Alaska. Most people wound up having to visit both shops to be satisfied. After all, one of them offered health. It made people feel better to have a smoothie with a gigantic piece of cherry cheesecake that way they knew they were helping and destroying their colons at the same time. Surprisingly enough, the two establishments played fair and didn't fight with each other so long as three guards from the League of Five were visible. Every once in a while the owner of the extensive mall let them duke it out with a big pie fight. The loser had to close shop for two whole days. Otacon eventually wound up purchasing a cinnamon roll and a smoothie.

Right next to the snack shops he loved so much was the area where the street performers usually gathered. One could usually get dinner and a show here. The bad one's had to stay outside and were considered target practice for bored college students. Hitting a Masterpiece Theater reject was worth two thousand points. If the driver knocked their shoes off, they got an extra five hundred. Sure enough, Ocelot was among the privileged crowd. He appeared to be doing a ventriloquism act with a dummy seated on his right hand that resembled Liquid perfectly. The doll was dressed in the trench coat Liquid had worn during the Shadow Moses incident. Revolver had attracted a very large crowd of eager onlookers. Not one of them looked bored. They were all completely captivated by Ocelot's performance. Otacon took an empty seat at one of the nearby tables and observed Ocelot, who switched his voices seamlessly. His lips never moved whenever Liquid was talking.

"Who steals your genes, Jimmy?" the Liquid dummy asked.

"I don't know, Bruce. A pants thief?" Ocelot responded.

"No. Listen carefully. A brother steals your genes but your girlfriend steals your _jeans._"

Hal had a real good laugh at that one. So did everyone else.

"What do you do if a rifle jams on you?" Liquid asked.

"Remedial action?"

"No, you find some peanut butter and a piece of toast and have your last meal. Finally, what is the advantage of having a hand up your ass for thirty minutes, Jimmy?"

"I don't know. Please tell me."

"It gets rid of constipation. I thank you very much for your help in that matter, Jimmy. Now I don't have to take those damn pills anymore."

Ocelot tilted his head at Liquid's odd comment and pulled his hand out of the dolls bottom half. Brown goo covered most of his hand. It was only a mixture of chunky chocolate with syrup, but it worked rather well. Everybody in the crowd laughed in approval, although there were a few disgusted scoffs, but that was to be expected. Comedy was about sacrifice, which was something Ocelot figured he knew plenty about. Besides, toilet humor wasn't for everyone. Ocelot took a cloth from his pocket and wiped the goo off. He then bowed low to signify the conclusion of that particular skit. Since his dummy act was finished, he carefully placed the Liquid doll in a highly expensive suitcase. Revolver faced the audience again and smiled grandly. An air of anticipation breezed through the area. It was time for the main event. Nobody could stand the wait.

"Now, who wants to see me beat myself up again?" Ocelot finally asked the crowd.

The resulting cheer was so loud it popped Otacon's ears.

"You rock!" some guy with a colossal beard and equally large sunglasses roared.

"Punch yourself in the balls again!" some college student with a cap requested.

"Quiet, 'tard. Let him do what he wants." his somewhat angry friend ordered.

"Even if Jimmy wins, communism is still for losers!" some old man said.

"I love you, Jimmy!" some girl shouted ecstatically.

A pink bra flew through the air and landed at Ocelot's feet. Within the crowd stood a topless women who had the proper equipment for prancing about naked. Sadly, that was against the mall's policy. Four security guards instantly emerged from odd hiding places and dragged the young woman toward the exit. She was kicking and shouting obscenities at them all the way as each guard held one of her four limbs. Revolver nudged the bra aside and stood completely still. After a moment, the fight started and Ocelot beat the crap out of himself while holding a very violent conversation with Liquid. The audience cheered accordingly.

Otacon stopped watching Ocelot for a moment and took a volume of The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya out of his sack and examined it while munching on his sticky cinnamon roll. After ten minutes of sheer brutality, Ocelot broke off his fight with Liquid and wrapped up his unique performance. Usually the fights lasted a little longer, but he was sort of tired today. The crowd didn't seem to mind, though. After all, they weren't paying because tips didn't demand service. He spotted Otacon sitting nearby eating a cinnamon roll that had enough calories in it to make Ocelot three pounds heavier just because he had looked at it.

Otacon hardly noticed when Ocelot sat down across from him. Upon discovering he had company, Otacon put the anime aside and turned his attention on Ocelot, who was more than a little bruised.

"Fancy seeing you here!" Ocelot bellowed. "I take it Snake told you to come on down?"

"Yeah. Any idea where he went?"

"Probably to go play with himself. Anyway, what did you think about my act?" Ocelot asked eagerly.

"It was fairly enjoyable. You really look like you took a beating. Did you hurt yourself?" Otacon questioned.

"Oh, no!" Ocelot said egotistically with a grin. "Me and Liquid practice this daily. We take special precautions to ensure that it looks like our body has been through a bad fight when in fact we're not in any sort of pain at all. You see, we're professionals."

"When that fails, I guess there's always your prescription drugs."

"Amen." Ocelot said. "I love those things!"

Both of them heard someone approaching the table with wet shoes on. They looked toward the sound and saw Snake making his way over to them. He was dressed casually and his clothes were soaking wet. Snake was currently examining a tiny silver coin, which he held close to his face. Ocelot jerked back in surprise at the wet splash Snake made when he sat down. A small waterfall formed due to the water dripping from his rear. He noticed that his two friends were looking at him oddly. Snake proudly slammed the small coin on the table in front of them and pointed at it rigidly.

"It's the state quarter for Alaska!" he announced.

Otacon leaned forward and adjusted his glasses. Sure enough, it was just as Snake had said. Ocelot was about to pick it up for further examination when Snake grabbed it back in a flash.

"Not so fast, it's mine!" he said defensively. "Do you know how long I've been looking for this one?"

"Where did you get it?" Ocelot asked.

"At the fountain." Snake explained. "It was very embarrassing, but I just had to get this quarter."

Both men looked at him as if he were a complete idiot. Snake didn't seem to care. Liquid took the front seat of Ocelot's body and glared harshly at Snake.

"You are extremely bizarre." Liquid said.

"Hey!" Snake snapped. "I wasn't the only one! Raiden was doing the same thing and some other guy was using a sift to go through all of the pyrite they threw in there."

"That explains so much." Liquid retorted bitterly. "How did you get wet? Did you actually jump in there?"

"No, I was leaning over the edge and I got a hold of it just as one of those security guards accidentally bumped into me while he and three of his friends were busy carrying away some topless bimbo. Was I ever pissed. They gave me a bunch of coupons, so it's all good."

"How come they didn't throw you out for committing a social taboo?" Ocelot asked.

"They know better than to mess with me and treasure hunting is _never_ a social taboo." Snake replied.

"Technically it's coin collecting." Otacon said, but he was ignored in the midst of the argument.

"I suppose the girl was partially my fault, but you're still stupid for stealing money from a fountain."

"Whatever. At least I'm not like those Inuyasha cosplayers. Tell him what you told me about them, Otacon."

Otacon sighed and knew that neither Liquid or Ocelot would really care, but he'd try to explain it anyway.

"Inuyasha is a dog demon that's half human and has these white fluffy ears sticking out of his skull."

Ocelot stared at him as if in a stupor. Snake grinned at Otacon and gestured for him to continue.

"Some people who cosplay as Inuyasha include the ears, which are fairly popular among the female viewers of the show. They apparently wonder what it'd be like to scratch his ears so if the costume the cosplayer is accurate enough, he might get pet by some girl."

"Whose only source of nutrition is snack cakes?" Ocelot asked.

"Precisely." Otacon concluded, pushing up his glasses.

"What does that have to do with Snake's attempt to become a mermaid?"

"Well. . .nothing." Otacon muttered.

"I didn't think so." Liquid said.

"No, you're wrong. What that means is I can do pretty much whatever I want just so long as I don't stoop to the same level of self-hate that those cosplayers have for themselves." Snake explained assertively.

Liquid thought that prospect over. It wasn't that Snake had made a point, though. He was just looking for a way to insult him again. However, the absurdness of the entire conversation soon came over him and he decided it was best to leave it alone. Liquid withdrew himself into his dormant state of consciousness, letting Ocelot come back in. As Snake thought about his little trip into the unusually warm fountain, he began to realize that he had publically humiliated himself. Snake sighed in remorse. All of a sudden he needed a cigarette. He had just experienced a flood of rejection, which made his craving for tobacco shoot up one hundred percent. Snake reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of sopping wet cigarettes. A stream of water flushed out from the bottom of the wrinkled box. Snake cursed and threw the cigs into a nearby trash can.

Otacon noticed Snake wasn't holding up to well at the moment, so he decided to lighten the mood if he possibly could.

"How are you and Meryl doing?" Otacon asked.

"I've got nothing new to report on that. I thought she would have been looking for a new place by now, but she isn't showing any intention of leaving."

"Must be rough?"

"Not at all. She's good company." Snake said. "Almost like a friend you can't get rid of, or something. I don't know."

"I never would have guessed she'd be able to bunk with someone else for so long with that temper she's got." Ocelot said. "You two have to fight all the time."

"No. She's like Campbell. I know how to deal with it. Anyway, what happened with you and Mei Ling at The First Amendment?" Snake asked Otacon.

"The what?" Ocelot asked. "Oh, that new bookstore! Right, right."

Otacon swallowed hard. While browsing the store in a bored stupor, an incident had occurred between the two of them. Otacon's patience with Mei Ling's secretive relationship with whoever she was currently dating was getting to him. He couldn't help but be attracted to her no matter how hard he tried to drown out the thoughts he had about her with as much hentai at six megs down a minute could get him in under thirty minutes.

"How come I didn't see you?"

"Because I didn't want you to see me."

"That makes sense."

"He's good at that." Ocelot remarked. "I spent thirty minutes looking for him at Raven's birthday party. I couldn't find him. He found me!"

"Anyway, it had to do with something I said. I asked her how she could be so cute when she looked so tired." Otacon said, getting back to the story.

"What?" Ocelot asked.

"That's pretty much what she said. I told her she was so tired because she had been running through my dreams. It's a pickup line. Get it?"

Otacon's reward for this was a total of three sarcastic pats on his cheek that almost bordered on slaps. Mei Ling handed him the book she was going to buy and then had left him standing there in a stupor. Snake stared at Otacon with a shocked expression on his face. Otacon had been awkward before, but this really pushed it over the line. In fact, it went overthe originalline and drew a new one a couple leaps ahead.

"Hal, I'm a man and I would even hit you for that." Snake said.

"Don't take it too personally. Maybe when you get older a girl in her early twenties will subconsciously want you to sub in as her father. Better yet, maybe it will be some damn loli you can't bang. Legally." Ocelot said.

Otacon shrugged in defeat.

"I see you've got a new job." Snake said to Ocelot, taking the pressure off of Otacon.

"Yes, as I matter of fact I did." Ocelot boasted happily. "I got bored sitting around my house doing nothing all day so I decided to come back to this mall and see if they would let me perform here as I'd done so before. At first I only beat myself up in front of people, which was enough, but later I sent in an order to a company that makes dolls and had a little Liquid one made so I could add ventriloquism to my repertoire."

"Really?" Snake asked, surprised. "You've got a Liquid doll?"

Ocelot smiled and nodded. He put the suitcase containing the doll on the table and opened it up. Ocelot carefully took out the doll and handed it over to Snake. He found the place where the hand was supposed to go and placed his inside. Snake then made the doll face him.

"Hello, Liquid." Snake greeted.

"Screw you, brother." he said again. "Go suck Meryl's ignition switch." Snake gasped in offense and brought the doll closer to his face. "You're just jealous." he said. He then used Liquid's again. "Bite me."

Snake's imitation of Liquid would have been spot on if not for the high pitched voice he used. He almost sounded like a girl. Otacon didn't even think Snake could go that high with all the cigarettes he had consumed over the years. Nevertheless, his British accent was absolutely smashing. Snake waved his hand in front of the dolls face a couple of times.

"Guess what, Liquid?" Snake asked dumbly. "Go screw yourself." he spoke again, imitating Liquid. "Here comes the mighty fist, what are you going to do?" Snake asked the doll.

He then began flicking at the dolls head while laughing cruelly.

"Please stop, Snake! You're hurting me!" Snake said in Liquid's tone. He then cleared his throat before continuing in his own. "Only if you admit that I have the height advantage."

Ocelot felt his right arm twitch violently. A vein popped somewhere inside it. He grabbed his throbbing arm and fought back Liquid's rage, which made him feel violently ill for some reason. Liquid was not happy at all with what Ocelot was seeing. Ocelot's right arm balled up into a tight fist and began trembling uncontrollably. Everything seemed to move in slow motion and a strange metallic smell developed in Ocelot's nostrils. It took all his strength just to warn Snake to stop screwing around.

"Snake." Ocelot said, feeling woozy. "I think you're upsetting Liquid."

"How's a tiny little squirt like you going to pilot a mech, much less take over the world?" Snake asked the doll, completely ignoring Ocelot. "Please, Snake. Have mercy! I. . .I love you! In a brotherly sort of way, that is." he said in Liquid's tone. He then switched back to his own. "I don't think I want that. Oh, no! I think the mighty fist is about ready to come around again! What are you going to do about it, pansy?"

Well, that did it. Liquid seized control of Ocelot. Without wasting any time he instantly jumped from his seat and put all of his weight behind the punch he delivered across Snake's face. The blow knocked Snake out of his chair. As he proceeded to crash into the floor, the tiny doll he'd been using slipped off of his hand and went flying through the air. Otacon got out of his seat and dove for it, catching the dummy just before it hit the ground. He then sighed in relief and looked over at Liquid to see how the situation was developing. Snake looked a little dazed and Liquid was pointing a shaky finger at his brother.

"That's what I'm going to do!" he yelled.

Liquid straddled Snake and started flicking at his nose much like Snake had done to the doll. He then drew back his arm.

"Here comes the mighty fist!" Liquid shouted. "What are you going to do?"

Ocelot took control again and tore himself off of Snake, not wanting to hurt his friend. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of the pills he carried that suppressed Liquid's attacks. Revolver popped the lid and was about to swallow some when Liquid took over again.

"I'm going to kill him." Liquid assured. "I'm going to shove his bloody head clear up his arse and glue it there!"

"Why not use duct tape?" Otacon suggested.

"Because I don't have any with me!" Liquid responded. Abruptly he became calm. "That was a good idea, though." his face turned red again. "But I'll use what I got!"

"Liquid, cut it out! I'm far too old for this!" Ocelot pleaded. "Besides, Snake was just playing around."

"I know you're old and I don't care! You're so old you have to jump start your penis in order to get an erection!"

Ocelot took great offense to that insult and came up with an equally tasteless remark. A sly look spread across his face.

"You're so British your farts have an accent." Ocelot said coldly

Liquid was taken completely aback by Ocelot's comment.

"You'll pay for that." he sneered. "In pounds."

"We're not in England, dumb ass. You'll have to use dollars."

"No. I meant I'm going to get you fat."

"Go ahead! I'll just work it off like I always do."

Liquid slapped himself across the face to shut Ocelot up and then tossed the bottle of pills aside after putting the cap back on them. He then marched over to Snake with the intent to beat the snot out of him. Ocelot was still floating around in his own body, eagerly fighting back for control. Things were looking bad. With great effort he body slammed himself by jumping in the air and landing flat on his back. He was making a public display of himself yet again. Some of his fans took notice and flocked to him like ants to sugar cubes.

"Yes! Another Bruce and Jimmy fight!" one kid said. "Two in one day!"

"That really looked like it hurt." some girl remarked. "Are you okay, Jimmy?"

Ocelot let out a little noise with what breath was still in him. He was in considerable pain at the moment.

"This show is too violent for young children!" a concerned mother screeched.

"My name is Solomon." some guy named Solomon said, eager to get himself into this fan fiction. "Yes, I've been exposed!"

"These extras are getting a little stale." a concerned stale extra remarked.

"Don't worry, I've got a fix for that." The Author said, because he can be in here if he wants since it's his story.

Ocelot flipped over on his belly and began to crawl towards his pills. He managed to retrieve them. The crowd cheered. Without thinking he tore off the silly plastic cap and swallowed ten capsules at once. Liquid stood up, screamed, and ran over at Snake in a blind rage, knowing his time was almost up. Snake braced himself to take down Ocelot with some CQC. He grabbed a plastic knife from the table they were sitting at since it felt more natural for him to perform self defense with one. Luckily for Ocelot, the increased dosage got rid of his alter ego quickly. Unluckily for Ocelot, it also had a negative effect on the rest of his body that made him feel as though he were on the verge of death. He did a belly flop on the ground and slid forward, coming to a complete stop at Snake's feet.

"I wonder where he got that from." Talim from the Soul Calibur series said sarcastically.

"Is it really okay for us to be here?" Samus Aran asked.

"No." Major Kusanagi said.

"Relax. The problem here is that the rest of this crowd has become far too generic so our presence is needed to make the scene stand out better than that guy over there with the beard or the disgruntled father with the energy drink." Etna from Disgaea explained. "Try to have fun with it."

"Enough, ladies." The Author demanded. "We're almost at the funny part."

Ocelot wasn't moving. Otacon turned him over and looked to Snake for extra help, but he was already running away from the scene. There went the only person he knew who was trained in first aid and CPR.

"Where are you going?" Otacon shouted.

"To get some water from the fountain!" Snake called back.

Hal cringed in disgust and muttered a few choice words at his friend's course of action. He looked down at Ocelot and saw his eyes were focused on the area behind him and not onhim like they should have been. A glazed expression was all over the old Russians face. He grinned broadly enough to permanently stretch out his cheeks.

"Enga binga zipbabwa dorgon." Ocelot whispered gently. "That's Russian for I think my heart just stopped."

"Revolver, snap out of it!" Otacon said.

Ocelot's eyes rolled into the back of his skull.

"Yep, it stopped." Revovler mused. "It was going boop-boop-boop but now it's doing this." he gave Otacon a raspberry.

"Who won the fight?" Solomon asked.

"Certainly not the American taxpayers." the manager from GameCrop replied.

"Oh, shut up!" Otacon snapped.

Ocelot was rapidly slipping out of consciousness and Snake had still not returned with the water he said he was going to get. Otacon had to do something to keep Ocelot awake. An idea occurred to him.

"This man is in trouble! Quick, somebody go call the Boo-Boo Fixie Hospital!"

The name of that hellhole registered somewhere deep within Ocelot's drug impaired mind and quickly brought him out of it. There was no way he would ever go back to that place again. Ocelot sobered up as best he could and sat up straight just in time to get hit in the face with a bucket full of lukewarm fountain water, which brought him even further into the real world. Spare change flew everywhere and scraped against his face. Ocelot coughed hoarsely and shook his hair free of the water that clung to it. As he spit out a dollar and twenty five cents in a colorful assortment of coins, his eyes became clear and he saw Snake standing in front of him, holding a battered bucket.

Snake was relieved to see that Ocelot was okay. His eyes suddenly began to wander around, looking at the small change on the marble floor. A certain quarter caught his attention.

"New Jersey!" Snake declared happily.

He leapt for the quarter instantly. So did Solomon. Both men started clawing at each other in an attempt to get the precious piece of currency worth only twenty-five cents.

"It's mine, damn it!" Snake roared. "I saw it first!"

"But I'm a Marty Sue! By law, I should have things that you don't!" Solomon contested.

Snake hit him across the face with the empty metal bucket. When that failed to bring him down, he kneed Solomon in the groin. A sick crunching noise emitted from between Solomon's legs. It sounded a lot like accidentally dropping an egg to the floor while trying to make breakfast the day after the big party. Blood began to seep through Solomon's jeans. As he fell forward, Snake caught his head with the same knee and knocked him out cold. Snake pried the quarter out his hands and pocketed it. Two security guards instantly emerged to investigate the commotion. One came out of a large trash can while the other slid a section of the floor away and crawled up from under it. They took one look at Snake, shrugged, and carried Solomon away. Snake nodded in approval and then turned to face his friends, who were glaring at him.

He bit his bottom lip once he realized what he had just done. Solomon didn't deserve the full brunt of his military combat knowledge. He should have toned it down just a little bit. In the heat of the moment, Snake had failed to exert control over himself. The crowd that Ocelot had gained hurled muttered insults at Snake and began going about their business. A janitor entered the area and began to clean up the blood, which proved that Marty Sue's do indeed bleed. Ocelot and Otacon were waiting patiently for Snake to explain himself. Snake sighed and then began his defense.

"It's a hobby." Snake stated.

"Don't you give us that!" Ocelot shouted. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Snake gulped and chuckled nervously.

"I like quarters?" Snake tried.

"I saw that coming." Ocelot muttered.

Snake prepared to tell them the real reason why he was acting so strange.

"I'm sorry, I just really need something new to do. You guys already know how I get if I go to long without a sneaking mission. It's starting to mess with my head a little. The most fun I've had lately is scaring people in public restrooms. I can't even remember how I got hooked on collecting these useless quarters."

With a sigh, Snake flung New Jersey aside, breaking his addiction.

"I'm bored." Snake muttered.

"Does any of that justify the fact that you popped that guys nut sack open?" Ocelot asked.

"Not really." Snake said.

"What would you have done if that was your nut sack?"

"I would have torn the other guys off." Snake answered.

"Hold up a minute." Otacon interjected. "If you're bored, why don't you try looking for a job? I think a new career would be good for you. It will help stop all the weird things you do that are brought on by boredom such as collecting state quarters and playing inside a cardboard box. Do you even have a job like the rest of us?"

"You work?" Ocelot asked Otacon in disbelief.

"Yes. I'm currently developing a new sneaking suit that will revolutionize the way we use camouflage. Additionally, I'm developing a mobile scout. As if that weren't enough, I build computers and work with our local ISP from time to time."

"Geek." Ocelot retorted. "Did you get Laura Bailey to sign your socks yet?"

"No." Otacon muttered.

Snake quickly thought over how he was going to respond while his friends were distracted. The only thing Snake knew how to do well was kill stuff, mostly humans or small animals. Before he'd retired, working for the military and carrying out highly sensitive missions was all he really did. It was all he had to do. The hours weren't that great, but the pay and benefits had been fantastic. However, Snake had managed to hold some jobs down before he decided to give the army a try. None of them had lasted more than six months and many of them were somewhat embarrassing. All of them brought back very bad memories. Most of the difficult moments were brought on by his temper and blunt manner of speaking, which he eventually grew out of. Some of his most memorable occupations flashed before his eyes. One time he had worked at a beer factory, but quickly got fired for what his boss had described as taking advantage of the institution. Snake knew it would come to that before he even applied for the job. He just wanted free beer.

On another occasion he had worked as a bouncer. That had been a damn good job and one that he could have stuck with if things hadn't have taken a turn for the worse. Snake got a little too carried away with disciplining the troublemakers. His boss fired him during the middle of winter while he was tossing some pervert into the dumpster since people were starting to become afraid of coming to the club whenever Snake was around. Unfortunately, the kid he had stuffed inside a trash sack and thrown into the dumpster knew a few people that helped get Snake thrown in jail for a month even though the kid had clearly spiked the drinks of a few underage women. The inmates learned to stay away from him after the shower incident. After being released from jail, Snake spent a very long night at his apartment thinking about his life. The only support he'd had for this delicate process was a big bottle of Scotch.

At that time college wasn't nearly stimulating enough for his needs and his days in high school hadn't been any better. Financial aid and a couple of scholarships were pulling his 3.5 GPA on through easily. They weren't helping him any with living expenses, though. He'd switched major's about five times until he finally found one that worked. If Snake had gone through college, he would have become a foreign language specialist and might have gone on to work as a translator or interpretor. Teaching English in Asia had once appealed to him. However, Snake was getting pressed for cash and he knew he'd have to start working at the jobs he wanted to avoid because he refused to rely on financial aid for anything other than education. Paying off a loan was horrible enough on its own. It didn't need to be exacerbated by what he could afford by himself.

Then it happened. Snake was working as a bartender at a real dive and was teaching some idiot that just because he worked in construction and had to sweat all day did not mean he could pick a fight with anyone he wanted to and win when he decided to join the army in a moment of clairvoyance. It would be a good outlet for his anger. Besides, he had always been good with guns and fighting. Regular jobs sucked. He was also becoming discontent with playing guess what the professor will put on the test and enduring pompous attitudes from his instructors that hindered their ability to function anywhere other than the college itself. He dropped out. There were some other factors influencing this drastic choice, but mostly he had grown sick of institutionalized learning. At the very least, he figured his experience in the army would be better than the summer he had spent backpacking across Europe. His lucky break into FOX-HOUND hadn't come overnight. He had to put up with a drill sergeant first. Briefly.

Snake nearly killed the guy after he was challenged to a fight in front of everyone. The thing that instigated the fight was a snappy remark Snake had made after the sergeant had degraded his tyrannical mullet. Even without CQC, Snake floored the guy. When he was not in solitary confinement for trying to kill the sergeant who eventually learned to fear him, Snake was showing great potential by finishing each drill before anyone else and getting top marks in combat proficiency. Important people began to take notice. Next thing he knew, his drill sergeant had to salute him because Snake was being pulled into the legendary FOX-HOUND unit as a prospective member.

The rest was history. At first the secret missions were a great big thrill, but after a few traumatic incidences they lost most of their original appeal. Snake had finished his soul searching, realizing he'd come up with nothing useful aside from a handful of depressing memories.

"Ocelot, I've had work experience prior to being an elite soldier." Snake said.

"Is that so?" Ocelot responded skeptically.

"That's good." Otacon said, trying to encourage Snake. "At least now when you fill out your resume you can have them contact a previous employer."

Snake's eyes widened and all the hair on his neck stood up.

"That would be a bad idea." he said quickly.

"In that case you should go see Psycho Mantis. I bet he'd be able to help you find a decent job." Otacon said.

"Isn't he a psychologist?"

"I'm sure he could very easily be a career councilor as well. They're basically the same thing."

Ocelot gulped and decided to intervene before things got out of hand.

"I can't see you at peace with the public, Snake. You would look positively ridiculous at Pizza Hut."

"You just don't think I can do it because of my extreme military background."

"I think you'll be bored out of your mind. You are and always have been a soldier. No matter how hard you try, you can't get away from that. A new job isn't going to help with your sneaking mission withdrawal."

"What are you saying? Should I go on another mission somewhere?"

"You would take one look at the right cardboard box and you would be under it for hours!"

"That's not true. I can control that urge."

"But you can't help but sneak into the theater and hop around three movies, can you?"

"You thought that was fun."

"Of course I did! I didn't have to pay for anything! Anyway, I just think it would be a colossal waste of time if you got a regular job. I'm also trying to save you from Mantis."

"Psycho Mantis is a good doctor and he'll help Snake find an ideal line of work." Otacon said defensively.

"He's an even better story teller when he's drunk. I heard about your obsession with Tomoe Hanba and all those little fantasies you have of meeting Sherry Lynn right down to the smallest detail. And for God's sake Hal, why don't you leave those women alone?"

"He must have told you that a long time ago because right now I'm a recovering otaku." Otacon asserted firmly.

"Look, it's Mary Elizabeth McGlynn!" Ocelot shouted. "Crispin Freeman and Rina-chan are with her! Get your socks out, Otacon!"

"Whee!" Otacon cried out in joy, looking around for his deities.

After a moment, he realized that Ocelot had just duped him. The Russian glared deeply at the malnourished otaku.

"You have a very long way to go, friend." Ocelot said bluntly.

At that moment, Otacon seriously wanted to die. Ocelot knew far too much about his inner ambitions. They were things he had always kept secret. The only person who used to know about them was Mantis. Now Otacon knew he was sure to get hell from Ocelot whenever he wanted to watch him squirm. Snake, on the other hand, really couldn't care less. It must have been his mullet.

"Why did he tell you all those things?" Otacon said in a tiny voice.

"That's my secret." Ocelot said simply. He turned back to Snake. "Look, you don't want to deal with Mantis or a new job. Trust me. You're just going to have to find some other way to deal with your unique eccentricity. Stay away from booze. Go get a VR machine and have Otacon program some levels for you."

Snake chose to ignore Ocelot. It was better for his nerves. He really did like the idea of trying to find a job again. It would be a whole lot better than sitting around his house all day doing nothing. Still, the whole thing was a bit complicated. For now, he didn't feel like telling either Otacon or Ocelot in what direction he was going with this so he came up a neutral response that wouldn't make either of them fuss.

"I'll do what I think is right." Snake assured.

Without another word, he turned around and walked off. Otacon and Ocelot frowned at the same time while thinking the exact same thought. It was just like Snake to do something like that. Otacon sighed and parted with Ocelot. The old Russian dismissed him indifferently. He took out his bottle of Liquid pills and flipped it over so that he could read what would happen if he swallowed more than the recommended amount for whatever reason. This was the first time he had done so. Besides an intoxicating high and possibly death, a slight increase in sexual activity might result. If neither of those happened, severe random mood swings and violent vomiting would occur. Either way, the medicine would punish him for his abuse. Ocelot's eyes widened. Now that he knew what was supposed to happen, it actually began happening.

Ironic.

"Boobs!" Liquid shouted. "Must get as much smut as possible! I'm coming, Shoko Goto!"

"Wait!" Ocelot protested. "Her DVD's are imports! They're ridiculously expensive! Besides, all the dialogue will be in Japanese and as I recall, that's the _one _language you _didn't _master."

"Like I care. It doesn't matter if you can understand Japanese or not. All that really counts is if you know what's going on in the movie and who said anything about buying them? We'll just download them like everyone else and nobody can do a thing about it because we're with the Patriots!"

Ocelot felt himself persuaded.

"By God, you're right for once."

"Maybe we should get one of our fans! Perhaps I can possess her through your seed and then live on in a woman's body!"

That sounded like an awful idea. Ocelot began popping some more pills.

"What are you doing?" Liquid demanded. "I thought we were in this together!"

"I don't want to see you resurrected in any form. You're more than enough the way you are now!"

Liquid didn't respond. Ocelot's mind was too busy buzzing with his own personal fantasies. He chuckled to himself, glad to have at least a singular moment to himself and then just like that his perversion had subsided.

"Damn it. I can't remember the last time I was that excited over anything. For a moment, it was almost like I was young again. What a terrible thing to have wasted." Ocelot said to himself. "I guess I'll go get fat instead."

Ocelot headed for the snack shop.

**X**

Snake parked in his driveway and stayed inside the car for a little bit. He had concluded on the way home that he definitely was going to get a new job. He planned on seeking out Mantis for help in this matter. It had been a long time since they had last met. The last they saw of each other was when they both had been drunk at that bar. That wasn't a pleasant memory, but at the very least he knew he could call Mantis a friend. Snake got out of his car with that thought in mind and walked inside his house.

Blitz instantly came and greeted him, but what he saw made him ignore Blitz. The entire house had been completely cleaned. Everything seemed to be spotless. Dinner was also waiting on the table and Meryl was fast asleep on the couch with a duster on the floor beside her. On the plasma TV was an episode of Lucky Star. Snake approached the dinner and found that Meryl had successfully cooked spaghetti, or so it seemed. Hesitantly he took a big meatball and offered it to Blitz. He reasoned that if a dog ate it, then it wasn't toxic.

The Huskie grunted in disapproval and backed away. It seemed to Snake that his dog was trying to state that he would only eat it if Snake took the first bite. He did and found nothing was wrong with the food. Too bad for Blitz. He just blew his chance. Blitz groaned and walked off when he figured out he wasn't going to be fed. While Snake ate the tasty food, he didn't bother to think about how Meryl had acquired such excellent culinary skills. What mattered was that if she cooked like this regularly, he wouldn't have to do so anymore. She rarely helped out around the house with food. Once finished with eating, he grabbed his phone and hunted around for his phone book for about twenty minutes before he found the damn thing underneath his recliner. Snake quickly located Mantis' office number and dialed it up. After three beeps, someone answered.

"Good evening, this is the Praying Mantis institute and you're okay. As a human being, you have a right to feel accepted. This is Naomi Hunter speaking, how may I help you?" a familiar voice asked.

Snake was so surprised that it took him a minute to respond.

"You stupid damn telemarketer! We don't want anything!" Naomi roared.

"Wait!" Snake said. "It's me, Naomi! It's Snake. I was so stunned by your voice that it took me a minute to respond. I didn't think you worked for Mantis."

A brief pause ensued.

"Snake? Why would you be calling us?" she asked, confused.

"I need to make an appointment with Mantis."

Naomi snickered rather loudly and bit back a laugh. She took about three deep breaths to steady herself.

"Just a second." she managed to say. "I'll put you on hold and check his schedule."

Snake heard a click. On the other side of the line, Naomi was laughing her ass off. She got some funny looks for that, but it didn't matter. While tears streamed down her face, she flipped through Mantis' appointment book and saw an opening tomorrow afternoon at one. She took Snake off of hold and willed herself not to laugh.

"Mantis is open for a session tomorrow." she started chuckling again. "Come in at one."

Naomi quickly hung up. Snake sighed and turned off his phone. He was starting to become a little upset. Everyone figured he'd be better off just waiting for someone to steal another Metal Gear. They all thought he could not get along with the general public. It was true that it normally took Snake a while to make a friend, but that was besides the point. He knew deep down inside that he was capable of something other than killing and mushing dogs. Snake clutched both of his fists together and a sly smile crossed over his face. He was going to get a job. Then he would smear it in everyone's face. Yes, starting tomorrow, Snake was going to begin living all over again. . .most likely under a fake name.


	2. Searching For Answers And Not Getting An...

**Chapter #2: Searching For Answers And Not Getting Any.**

"You asked for it!" Meryl shouted.

Snake groaned and opened his eyes slowly, not ready to wake up at all. He needed about two more hours of sleep. Asking for five more minutes was for pansies. Snake dealt with hours since he knew it took at least ninety minutes to complete one cycle of sleep. Next thing he knew, Meryl was on top of him. She had done a pretty good jump that started from the doorway and ended on his lap in bed. Meryl grabbed him by the shoulders and heaved him up to her face, holding his hairy cheeks in her delicate hands and slapping him around a bit. Despite this incredibly physical wake up call, he was still partly in dream land. Even worse, he had been having a PTSD nightmare and Meryl's aggressiveness didn't help him any. Snake figured Meryl was somebody else. He lunged at her. They both fell off of the bed. Snake positioned himself so that he was on top of her. He then wrapped two strong hands around her throat and began choking her.

"Would you just die already? You don't deserve to be in so much pain! Get out of my dreams!"

Meryl began coughing and doing her best to tell Snake to stop it, but only strange gurgles came out that sounded vaguely like a duck, which was nothing more than fuel for Snake's fire. The nightmare was still playing through his mind. Big Boss' charred corpse had infiltrated his home and had chased him around every room in his house. Acid puddles and little crawl spaces were everywhere. All of his guns were missing and he couldn't find the lighter to go along with the aerosol can he had. Big Boss had finally cornered him in his room and was trying to get through the locked door. That's when Snake noticed that the duck from Ocelot's dinner party was somehow in the room with him. It was still shrieking in pain as electricity coursed through it even though it wasn't on a torture rack this time.

The combined fear of Big Boss' grotesque body that was covered in third degree burns and the annoying sound of the duck took his anxiety to new heights. Fed up with the guilt he felt for not stopping Ocelot from killing the duck in the sadistic manner that he had, Snake decided to try and kill the duck himself this time since most of his dreams were focused on saving it. He figured that this might make it stop being a reoccurring theme in his nightmares as he had more important traumatic episodes to relive. Why the duck had short red hair wasn't immediately an issue until it hit him. He wasn't dreaming anymore. Snake yelled in dismay and released Meryl's throat. He backed away from her, completely shocked.

Meryl remained on her back, coughing for air while trying to soothe her bruised neck. Snake looked down at his hands in absolute horror. Many things were amazing in this world. Thoughts could shape futures and influence attitudes. Harsh words were enough to discourage people from being themselves. Why had power been given to such small things? Hands had the ability to kill. This was especially true for Snake. They were also covered in calluses and a couple of odd scars he'd earned fighting off attack dogs and overweight alligators. None of those thoughts were relevant to the subject but they sounded good anyway. If his dream had gone on for just a little longer, he'd be short a Meryl. He cursed his PTSD condition and sighed deeply, trying to figure out what he was going to say.

He couldn't simply apologize to her for almost killing her. Well, maybe. Meryl wasn't the type to take abuse, though. Rightly so, even with an apology she'd still be pretty pissed off. But Meryl should have known it was risky living with Snake. It was not just his personality, the haunted garage, the broken heater, or the explosives in the shed that made the arrangement complicated. She also had to worry about people coming to assassinate him or haul him off on another mission. He could only wait to hear what she would say.

"I can't feel my voice!" Meryl rasped.

Snake dashed over to her and helped her up.

"I'm sorry. I thought I told you never to wake me up."

"I guess this is why we don't share beds." Meryl said. "I hate to concede, but you win that argument. What the hell were you dreaming about, anyway?" Meryl demanded.

"I. . .I thought you were a duck." Snake said, clearly ashamed.

Meryl blinked and titled her head.

"A duck? Where did you get that idea?" she asked, frowning. "Have you been watching Liquid's porn again? Why do you even do that? I'm better than all of your porn put together and tied up with a red ribbon."

"Yes, you are. But it was that bad nightmare again. It was the one about the time Ocelot had us over for dinner."

"Was I there?"

"I said us, didn't I?"

Meryl palmed her fist.

"That's right, now I remember. Was the death of the duck really that traumatic?"

Snake nodded sadly.

"I almost completely forgot about it. You didn't blow up toads like the other boys as a child, did you?"

"No, but I poured lye all over a red ant mound and trapped yellow jackets in soapy water more than once."

"That's not the same thing."

There didn't seem to be anything to worry about. Snake was expecting to get royally ridiculed, but it appeared as though Meryl understood why he'd snapped. Of course, neither of them were to blame for his condition. The dark side of human nature was the real culprit.

"Forget about that. Why did you need to wake me up?"

"Aren't you supposed to be on your way to Mantis' office today?"

He remembered telling Meryl about his possible venture earlier. It was shortly before he went to sleep. She had been glad for him. Snake looked over at his alarm clock and found that he had overslept again. It was noon. He had one hour to get his ass over to the _Praying Mantis _and he'd need at least that to get into town.Snake cursed and quickly hurried over to his bathroom, slipping on one of Blitz's chew toys along the way. Meryl caught him before he fell to the floor. He nodded his thanks and continued with his odyssey toward the shower.

"I'll figure something out later today that you can use to safely wake me up in case something like this happens again." Snake said from the shower as he turned it on.

"You have a riot shield in that junk room." Meryl said.

"I do?"

"Yes, but I also spotted some claymores that actually looked like they were primed so I didn't bother going back there to get it."

"What the hell are mines doing in my house? They should be outside! I really need to clean out that room. Why didn't you just grab a spoon and a frying pan?"

"I never thought your nightmares were lucid enough to transfer over into real life." Meryl said. "I always thought you just tossed and turned a lot in your sleep or would wake up completely terrified. I've also heard you searching the house at three in the morning from time to time. My room is the first you always check and that somehow never fails to wake me up."

"Well, now you know."

"And knowing is half the battle."

"G.I. Joe!" they both shouted together.

"All right, then. I'll go make breakfast while you clean up since it's the feminine thing to do." Meryl announced.

It was good to hear that she was taking this so well. They would both have a funny story to tell when the bruise on her neck darkened and they went out with their friends. He tried not to think about it and instead focused on his personal hygiene. To Snake, a shower was better than a bath. It was a great place for thinking and engaging in adult content. It could also be very dangerous at times. While looking for his favorite bar of soap, Snake accidentally stepped on it, causing him to get a very strong since of déjà vu as he plummeted to the floor. After surviving his shower with only a slight head injury, Snake put on some casual clothes and looked at the time. Mantis would be expecting him in thirty minutes. He was going to be very late. Snake dashed out of his room and tripped over Reece, who was wandering around the hallway aimlessly. The dog grunted in disapproval as it caved under its master's weight.

"What the hell is wrong with today?" Snake shouted. "Is it try to get Snake to break his own damn neckday? It's a shame it only comes around once a year, but where's my holiday spirit?"

Reece whined sympathetically. Snake got off of Reece carefully and continued his trek for the kitchen. Reece was annoyed by his master's clumsiness. Snake should have watched where he was going. Filled with anger, Reece waddled over to Snake's room to pee on something bright and shiny since objects like that were usually worth a lot of money. On the breakfast table were some toaster strudels. The icing on them was fairly impressive. Meryl had inscribed _Don't Press The Select Button_ on every single one. Snake looked up at Meryl, visibly confused. How had she been able to do that? She nodded at him reassuringly.

"I've been reading all those For Dummies books you have around the house to improve my cooking prowess, which was fine to begin with." Meryl explained. "You must be either really stupid or eager to learn considering you have just about every book in that series."

Snake blinked and let the comment slide. After devouring his small meal, Snake gave Meryl a hug and ran outside. The weather was decidedly bleak. Heavy snow fell slowly from the gray sky. Snake brushed all of the snow off of his car before getting in. His vehicle was as cold as an ice cave and he didn't have time to wait for it to warm up. Snake shivered violently and huddled over the steering wheel, stomping his feet on the ground and cursing violently at the ridiculous chill. With a sigh of frustration, he turned on his vehicle and cranked the heater up as far as it could go. He then switched on his satellite radio and brought in Japan.

As a disturbingly catchy song by Capsule played through his speakers, Snake tried to figure out what kind of job he would be good at. If he had some idea before he saw Mantis then he wouldn't come across as completely helpless. His efforts proved futile. Every thought he had always took him back into some type of job related to his military experience. Snake would have no trouble becoming a cop or a security guard, but he wasn't really hot for those positions. After saving the world from a gigantic metal contraption that looked like a retarded dinosaur, his sense of duty had been completely satisfied. He was done protecting his country and the people that lived within it for the time being.

Snake glanced over at his clock when he entered town. He was almost twenty minutes late. Snake bit his bottom lip, looked around for any police officers, and went thirty miles faster than the speed limit and common sense recommended. After sliding on a patch of ice and nearly crashing into a telephone pole, he pulled into the parking lot of the _Praying Mantis_ institute. He swore up a storm when the vehicle came to a complete stop. For a few minutes, he'd driven worse than Otacon. That was an eternity too much. His thoughts diverted away from self-hate when he began recalling all the information he could about the _Praying Mantis_. Psycho Mantis, called Gilbert by his close friends for no apparent reason, owned the entire clinic. It was full of doctors that carried decent degrees and was a highly recommended spot to visit if life became too difficult to handle. The staff was more concerned with helping its patients than it was with taking all their money away, which was very strange as most places did the exact opposite. The sessions were fairly expensive, but only the real whack jobs frequented the institute for over a month. As an added measure, there were lenient payment plans available for people on a tight budget.

Where exactly the former terrorist came up with all the money was still a great mystery, much like everything Snake had ever encountered in his entire life. Snake parked his car and walked into the building. He stepped into a large waiting room that was decorated pleasantly. Behind a large reception desk was Naomi, who was working hard on a computer. Or so it seemed. In actuality, she was instant messaging her friends and posting free advice on a medical message board. Behind her was a room full of medicine. Some of the doctors here were psychiatrists, not psychologists. The only difference was the ability to hand out medicine. Apparently Mantis had somehow acquired the license necessary to legally perform this service.

Other than that, there were three hallways that led to different parts of the building. Mostly all of it was offices. They must have been divided under some category, but Snake didn't bother to read to deeply into the layout of the building. He instead focused on checking in. Three other female receptionists were working alongside Naomi, who must have been their boss. He walked up to the pearl shaded desk and cleared his throat. When they made eye contact, Naomi's face screwed up. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand and ran off toward the restroom, snickering hysterically.

Snake felt about two inches tall at that moment. Thankfully, nobody in the waiting section was paying any attention to him, although he did note that one of them was having a conversation with a blank spot of air in the corner.

"May I help you?" a young woman asked.

The girl speaking to him was blonde and very easy on the eyes. She was gorgeous without looking too much like she frequented the bars all the time. A true catch. Otacon would stalk the hell out of her.

"Yes. I'm here for an appointment with Psycho Mantis. I'm a little late because I live in the country and it's kind of a long drive out here."

"What's your name?" she asked, looking into the computer screen.

Snake paused for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He had not left a name with Naomi, so he wasn't sure how he was entered into the computer. Had she used his real name? Probably.

"David." he said simply, not wishing to state his full name.

For a moment, Snake figured she was going to ask for his last name. It was so terribly embarrassing that he never mentioned it to anybody.

"David Pliskin?"

"That's correct." Snake confirmed, quite relieved that Mantis had used an alias.

"I'm afraid you're a little late, but that's alright. You'll have to wait out here for about ten minutes. Mr. Mantis is currently going through his mind exercises. You don't have to worry, though. It seems he's reserved an extensive amount of time for you, David."

"Extensive." Snake repeated to himself. "That makes me sound like a real fruit."

"No, you don't look too bad."

"You can tell just by looking?"

She pointed over at the guy having a conversation with the blank spot of air to clarify what she meant.

"I see your point, uhh. . ." Snake trailed off, hoping to catch her name.

"Terra." she said, introducing herself.

"Thanks. I see your point, Terra. Unfortunately for him, that is."

"At least Mantis got him off the sock puppets. That man is truly a genius."

"Who?"

"Mantis."

"Oh! Yeah, right. Sure." Snake said.

_I'm making myself look like an idiot here, _Snake thought.

"Well. . .I'll just wait here, then." Snake announced, smiling slightly.

_I'm so glad I don't date anymore, _Snake thought bleakly. _And to think I have a woman living with me. _He took a seat close to the desk right next to a man with very large glasses and a bad complexion. His breathing sounded rather strained. It didn't bother Snake all that much, though. Rather than looking for a magazine to read or watching the TV he sat still and kept to himself, hoping Mantis would be ready soon. Naomi finally came back into the room. She was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief that looked surprisingly like the same one Sniper Wolf had given to Otacon. That was upsetting.

When she returned to her seat, Terra came up and began whispering to her. Snake overheard what the two were talking about.

"Ms. Hunter, why did you run away laughing when you saw that guy walk in? He seems normal enough, which is quite a change from the usual people we get in here." Terra asked.

"You just have to know him." Naomi chuckled. "And he is by no means normal."

"That's so rude."

Snake sighed and shifted in his seat. The bell for the front door ringed and Snake looked at who had just come in. There were four serious looking cosplayers standing in the doorway. One lone female was in the group and she was dressed as Pleinair. She had the form to accompany this decision. The other three were men. One was dressed as Locke from Final Fantasy VI. His outfit was a lot more practical and less lavish than what the original artist had given the character. Even better, he held off on the pancake mix and didn't have an incredibly pale complexion. The quality of the clothing was enough to detract from that. This man had spent a lot of money on his outfit and was probably highly skilled at sewing if he didn't get the girl he was with to do it for him. Even so, it was impressive.

The second guy was Link. His costume was incredibly accurate except for the fact that he lacked elf ears. He was probably allergic to the rubber. The final member of the entourage was posing as an Ohmu from Nausicca. His costume looked extremely uncomfortable and required him to crawl about on the floor. Snake had to give them all props, though. They portrayed the characters well, but Snake had no trouble figuring out why they were here. They were crazy. _Especially _the chick masquerading as Pleinair. Terra's eyes bulged in surprise momentarily at the sight of the group. She looked to Naomi for help, who made a gesture indicating that she wasn't available. It must have been Terra's turn to check this particular group in. Naomi made a funny motion with her hand. Terra stood up and turned her back to Naomi. In one very sleek and barely noticeable movement, a taser gun was passed from Naomi to Terra. She stuffed it in her pants pocket.

"Hi! Welcome back!" Terra said. She sounded a bit nervous. "Let's see. We got Lucas Ob. . ."

"Yes, yes. You know who we are." the man posing as Locke said.

"Indeed. It's good to see that you're finally out of that Lina Inverse costume, Luke. If you don't mind me asking, are you finally yourself?"

"I think so. This will be my last session here. In the meantime, I have to give these three cupcakes a ride since none of their characters know how to drive vehicles."

"I must save the land!" the individual dressed up as Link shouted.

". . ." the Pleinair wanna-be said.

"Greechnit!" the bug guy screeched, trying to imitate some kind of bug noise.

Terra was still grinning nervously. Her smile began to twitch slightly while her hand traveled down into her pocket to grip the gun for the purpose of comfort.

"I must save the land!" Link screamed again.

A female doctor suddenly appeared, running over a checklist and not really looking where she was going. Snake immediately recognized her. It was Nanako from the Boo-Boo Fixie Hospital. Snake gasped and gawked, double taking three times just to be sure he wasn't seeing things. He couldn't figure out why she was here, but that wasn't such a bad thing. At least now she was working for a respectable employer. She didn't seem to recognize him. After setting down the clipboard on the receptionists desk, she noticed the odd spectators in front of her. Disgust distorted her face.

"Oh, it's you four again." she stated blandly. "Where are the others, Luke?"

"Trevor and Sypha couldn't make the appointment this time, Ms. Nanako." Luke stated. "They're busy having relations."

"Oh, so Simon and June are visiting with their family just like I told them to?" Nanako asked hopefully, using the real names of the cosplayers.

Luke grinned sardonically.

"Nope." he said simply.

Nanako's shoulders slumped. Terra, on the other hand, seemed content.

"Thank God Dr. Nanako is here. Now last week won't repeat itself." Terra said to herself.

"Don't jinx it!" Naomi snapped.

The dude dressed up as Link suddenly leaned over the desk and pointed his plastic sword at Terra.

"I must save the land!" Link yelled again.

"Keith, you are not Link and Terra will never be Zelda!" Nanako insisted.

"Back off, cretin." Naomi warned.

He used his fake sword to poke at Terra's breasts. At first she merely stood still, completely shocked. But when harmlessness turned into violation when Link grabbed one of her sizeable boobs with his hook shot to bring her in closer, she decided to fight back.

"To hell with the land!" Terra roared, prying the claw off of her boob. "I got your damn Triforce right here, pervert!"

She shot him in the chest with the taser gun. Link stepped back and dropped to the ground like a sack of wet oatmeal. Bizaro Pleinair made sure he wouldn't bite out his tongue while he convulsed on the ground. The Ohmu's eyes turned red, but all it did was shake in fear. Snake smiled in admiration. The dude had probably won a prize for that. Snake prepared to assist the ladies if it was needed. There was no telling what a group of crazy cosplayers would do just for the sake of living a different life. Dr. Nanako was standing tall, arms folded beneath her breasts, a tight look on her face, and one foot tapping impatiently on the ground.

"This ends today." she stated firmly. "All of it."

"Don't look at me, I'm fine!" Luke declared. "I just don't have any regular clothes at the moment."

"I wasn't talking about you. Would you mind carrying him for me?" Nanako asked, pointing at Keith.

Luke nodded and supported Keith over his shoulder and headed to Nanako's office. Bizaro Pleinair followed behind him briskly. The Ohmu moved slowly as the guy inside of it used his strength to push the costume forward.

"Get out of that stupid costume, Eric!" Nanako ordered.

The Ohmu rolled over. A dude popped out of it.

"Yes, ma'am." he said sheepishly.

Eric carried his costume along with him and disappeared into the hallways with Nanako. Terra and Naomi sighed in relief. After that they went back to work, trying to act as if nothing had happened. Snake dove into himself and wondered if he would ever do something like that. Otacon might, but would Snake ever go completely nuts? The people he had just seen had to have been normal at least once in their lives. Minds were so easily corrupted. After some comparison and contrast, Snake concluded that what he had just witnessed was more disturbing than someone threatening the world with a nuke. True terror did not exist in groups. It dwelled inside the mind. Snake gave himself a pat on the back for getting so philosophical all of a sudden. The man next to Snake leaned over, breaking Snake's egotistical parade. His breath smelled so bad that Snake would have to wash his face right after they were done talking.

"There are ghosts living in my pants." the odd man stated in a nasally voice.

"Same here." another guy added.

"Me too." a girl admitted.

"Where did my spiders go?" some guy whimpered.

Snake groaned. He picked up his seat and moved it closer to Naomi and Terra, as they were the only normal people present. Terra gave him a thumbs-up with a smile, to which Snake nodded. _Damn straight. I'm not crazy._ Though he did not wish to sound arrogant, he was starting to think that Terra liked him. People usually were like that around him. He had once reasoned that even the terrorists he killed seemed to grow attached to him right before he blew their brains out the back of their skulls. That's why they always went on and on about their life story and how it was so hard growing up without food right until Snake shot them dead in mid-sentence if he hadn't managed to kill them during the fight. He wasn't their damn psychologist.

He stopped being so heartless once this odd phenomenon became a regular occurrence. They were going to die anyway. Maybe their self-justification made them feel better about going to hell.

"The Blind Things!" a hoarse voice said that Snake recognized instantly.

The voice came from the central hallway. From out of it came Kyoko and Drake, the two kids he had shot at so very long ago when he was in hermit mode just before his dogs began talking to him. His former temper had ruined both of their lives. It was something he'd always regret. Not only were they on pills due to the incident, but therapy also seemed to be a part of their treatment for the trauma they had endured. Drake looked a lot better than the last time Snake had seen him, but he still had a disturbingly distant look in his eyes. However, he seemed a lot less pale and had gained a few pounds. He was finally at a healthy weight limit.

While Drake seemed to be recovering, Kyoko appeared to be sinking deeper and deeper into the dark pool of insanity. It was her who had spoken of the Blind Things, whatever those were. They sounded vaguely Silent Hill-ish to Snake. In her hands she held a stuffed hamster that had stuffing sticking out of it from being torn so much by her constantly grabbing at it. Only one black eye remained and the stitching around the toys mouth seemed to have been manipulated into a curled grin. A bald doctor with a beard was escorting them out with two concerned parents who looked as though they hadn't slept for a while.

Snake tried to sink into his chair, preferring not to remember the past. Kyoko and Drake suddenly stood erect, as if they sensed something dangerous. Slowly both kids turned their heads toward Snake, who gulped audibly and prepared for the worst. Kyoko was the first to react.

"The Blind Things know no limit." Kyoko warned. "Look at what they have done to Rhapasadamensie's throat!"

She thrust the tiny stuffed hamster into Snake's face. Now that it was easier to see, he noticed something he hadn't about the cheap toy. The throat was completely ripped open. A fluid resembling blood had stained the area around the injury. After holding it up against Snake's face for about thirty seconds, Kyoko drew back the fake animal.

"That's where their offspring come out." Kyoko said, smiling deviously. "Once they've laid eggs down your throat, that is!"

Kyoko spat at him.

"Now they've marked you. RAARGH!" Kyoko roared.

The mother of Kyoko pulled her away from Snake and began scolding her as he wiped the spit off of his face. At least there wasn't any snot in it. He vaguely hoped they would quickly leave after that, but Snake had no such luck. Drake gasped as if he'd just learned his parents were dead. He pointed directly at Snake with a quivering arm.

"You." Drake began. "I know who you are!"

At this point both the parents had taken notice of him. Snake's heart seized up and his throat caught. If Drake could convince everyone that it was he who had been responsible for all of this, his life would become unnecessarily complicated. What made matters worse was that Terra and Naomi were actively monitoring this tight ordeal. His mind frantically scrambled for a solution, but all he kept coming up with was guilt and a sense of dread.

"Though I know who you are, I've not yet accepted it." Drake babbled.

"I concur, but it hardly matters!" Kyoko continued in a demonic voice. "Mark the words of this young prophet, the Blind Things will seek this man out and attack him until his body is nothing more than a cold hunk of torn meat!"

A heavy silence hung in the air.

"See, this is exactly why they need stronger medication." the doctor said grimly.

Kyoko and Drake cheered simultaneously.

"The closer to death I feel, the less pain I have!" Kyoko proudly proclaimed.

They then both began screaming, seemingly for no reason at all. Drake and Kyoko ran for the door and rushed outside. The parents soon followed, frantically calling out for them to stop. Snake breathed a sigh of relief. Those kids really needed to move somewhere far away from Alaska because he was getting quite tired of them popping up in unexpected places.

"What was that all about?" Terra asked Snake. "Did that kid even know you?"

Snake could feel the devil jabbing at his shoulder, urging him to go ahead and fib even though it would slowly consume his soul, turning him back into a selfish jerk.

"I've honestly never seen him before. Poor guy."

Terra nodded, not even bothering to consider if she was being lied to or not.

"That's so sad." Terra stated.

_Snake!_

"What?" Snake asked, confused.

"The kids, I mean." Terra continued. "Did you know some maniac shot at them with a sniper rifle for no apparent reason at all? Ever since then they've been like that."

Snake coughed and almost felt like vomiting.

"No, I didn't mean that." Snake said. "I thought I heard someone call my name. In my head."

That slipped big time. Naomi and Terra regarded him cautiously. At first they appeared to be assessing his sanity but then they smiled.

"That must be Mantis." Terra said. "He's ready for you. He kind of does stuff like that."

"We're trying to make it a new form of sexual harassment, but the state doesn't believe that our boss is reading our minds." Naomi confirmed.

"Or telling us stuff telepathically."

Voracious laughter echoed through one of the hallways.

"See, that's him now." Terra said. "He thinks it's funny."

_Get your ass into my office, Snake. Oh, and bring me a stapler while you're at it._

Snake sighed and stood up.

"He says he'll see me now." Snake informed the two women.

_Don't forget the stapler!_

"And he wants a stapler."

Naomi took one out of a desk near her and handed it over to Snake.

"His office is down the central hallway clear at the end. You'll know it when you see it." Naomi explained. "Good luck."

"I must save the _laaaaaaaand!_" the man cosplaying as Link screamed from somewhere far off.

"Oh, for God's sake. . ." Naomi groaned, putting a hand to her head. "The people we get here!"

"I agree." Terra stated. "It sometimes makes you feel like the world is coming to an end."

Snake could have added to that conversation, but he chose not to. As he followed Naomi's directions, he discovered more offices than he had expected. A lot of people worked here. A bronze plaque was mounted on each wall beside every office door that gave the name of the particular professional practicing in the room and their individual degree. This entire place was the very definition of a shrink farm, but at least it looked nice. Snake came across Nanako's room and stopped abruptly. Curiosity overcame him and he peered inside. Link was having a fit on the floor complete with foam spewing from his mouth, Bizarro Pleinair was unresponsive, Luke was playing with a piece of Magicite, and the man dressed up as the Ohmu appeared to be completely lost when he wasn't in his costume.

Nanako's supported her head with her hand as she leaned forward over her desk in supreme aggravation. Obviously she had lost control of the situation. She opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a container of painkillers. Nanako took five of them in one gulp.

"Excuse me, sir." a man with a deep voice requested. "You're in the way."

Snake turned around and noticed twelve other men and one Korean woman were standing in the hallway with him. He was quite impressed that they had managed to sneak up on him, but he cursed himself for not paying attention in the same breath. He saw that the Korean girl was holding a straight jacket. Upon further inspection he noticed everyone around him had an acorn sewn into the side of their right shoulder. That was the emblem of the infamous _Squirrel Squad_, which was a part of Alaska's largest mental hospital, the _Happy Farm: Home Of Almonds. _Snake found himself slightly honored to stand in the same space as these brave young individuals.

He recognized the Korean girl from a newspaper article. She was Chun Hei and she could shove anyone into a straight jacket in record time. She had done it so much that it was second nature to her.

"On the count of three." she announced.

Once they reached the designated number, one man opened the door and headed straight for Link. For a brief moment he attempted to fight off his attacker with the plastic sword and shield that he carried, but he was tackled by two men. He hit the ground with a solid thud. Chun stuck him into the jacket with the same ferocity a hungry orb weaver used to cocoon its prey. Four men accompanied by Chun followed Bizarro Pleinair as she made a daring escape through the window. Moments later they threw her back through the window in a straight jacket. She sighed heavily as she laid on the ground. Eric and Luke didn't bother struggling, but Luke panicked when the Korean girl approached him with another jacket in her hands.

"Wait, I'm not crazy anymore!" he shouted.

"Leave that one alone." Nanako said. "Commit the others."

"On what basis?" Chun asked.

"They act like their characters. It's enough that we managed to save one of them, but the rest need more intensive treatment. Keith goes around all day looking for Zelda, Eric spends all his time eating insects in the wild and you can see his poor hygiene reflected in his teeth, and Bizarro Pleinair over here has never spoken to anyone so I don't even know her name. She's so anti-social that she doesn't even have any friends online."

"Then how did she come to know these guys?" Chun asked.

"She kind of followed us around like a mascot ever since we met her at a Chinese restaurant." Luke explained.

"Interesting. If that's all, we'll be leaving." Chun said.

Nanako nodded. In less than five minutes they were already rushing out the door with their captives properly restrained.

"Quickly, to the back exit!" Chun ordered. "Remember, the other patients must not see this!"

"Huzzah!" the group shouted together.

As they left, Snake looked in on Nanako, who now seemed very relived. He would have assured her that she'd done her best if he didn't want to bother her. Finished with that, Snake went back to his search for Mantis' room. It didn't take him much longer to find it. Instead of a bronze plaque mounted near the door, Mantis had an expensive platinum slab specifically describing him as the founder and head shrink. Snake reached for the door handle, but it opened on its own. Mantis could really be a smart ass. He sighed and stepped inside. Psycho Mantis was hanging in mid air, upside down above his desk mumbling something to himself. Just for kicks, Snake slammed the door behind him hard. Mantis concentration broke and he collapsed like a purse full of wet bricks.

Mantis got up from the ground painfully and looked over at Snake. Once their eye's met, Snake gasped in surprise. Mantis' face was completely normal. No longer was he wearing a gas mask like he was the last time both of them had gone out hitting bars together. Mantis even had hair now and a toned body. It was a complete surprise.

"Very funny." Mantis said.

"Mantis." Snake said. "What happened to your face?"

"Reconstructive surgery." Mantis explained.

"You should get your money back." Snake joked.

"Pretty big talk for a guy who has a mullet." Mantis said with a smile.

Snake tossed the stapler at Mantis, who caught it with his mental powers and floated it safely to his desk. After that brief exchange, he motioned for Snake to sit down on a comfortable looking couch.

"Go ahead and lie down there, we'll get started in a minute." he instructed. "Put this blind fold on, too."

Mantis threw a red piece of cloth at Snake. He caught it and examined the fabric for a moment before returning his attention to Mantis.

"What for?"

"So in my defense you never can say you _saw _me touch you inappropriately even though you were sure you felt it." Mantis countered. "Just put it on, okay?"

Even though it seemed foolish to him, Snake complied with the request. He sat down on the couch and tied the cloth around his eyes, blinding himself. Not being able to see made him feel quite naked. He waited impatiently as Mantis shuffled about his office, tripping over stuff constantly. Some blinds were closed. A couple of papers were shuffled about. Finally, Mantis sat down on a very overbearing recliner near the couch.

"Okay, you can take it off now." Mantis instructed.

A psychidelic dancing room of light greeted Snake when he removed the cloth. It was almost as if he had stepped into some alternate dimension. At certain points across the room were lava lamps of varying design, their contents lazily sloshing back and forth through the liquid. A disco ball was mounted on the ceiling, casting scattered fragments of white light across the room. Close to Snake were four different fish lamps, the water inside sprouting up and changing different colors as the fish quickly swam up, then down. There was a gigantic plasma ball in one corner, lightning frantically trying to escape out of the glass but forever failing. An unseen stereo filtered in some ambient music at a low volume. Snake found this set-up slightly relaxing, but still a little off. It wasn't his place to say what Mantis should put in his room.

Mantis gave Snake enough time to take the room in. He was holding a clipboard with five sheets of paper attached to the grip. These were obviously the sheets he'd use to scribble notes on.

"I think I want this room." Snake said.

"Everyone says that." Mantis replied. "Except for the people who are prone to seizures. They don't like it as much."

"You mean you had all this stuff on when someone with a condition came in?"

"He never really specified it, so I wasn't at fault. Besides, after he got out of the hospital he claimed his depression was considerably alleviated."

"By a seizure?"

"Of course." Mantis assured.

He put his clipboard down for a moment and took a giant teddy bear from his side and placed it on his lap. Snake raised a suspicious eyebrow at him.

"Big Joe needs a friend. Would you like to give him that blessing?" Mantis said encouragingly.

"Hell no!" Snake said. "What. . ." he wasn't able to finished.

That which had once been totally awesome had suddenly become unsettling. If there was one thing Snake didn't need, it was the company of a stuffed animal. He found no comfort in holding them. Mantis set the bear down and reached inside of his pocket to retrieve something.

"Then if you don't want to hold teddie-weddie would you like to have chickie-wickie?" Mantis asked.

He pulled a tiny rubber chicken out of his pants pocket. Snake shook his head, noticeably stunned.

"How about a duck?" Mantis asked.

Snake just about had a violent flashback. Not wishing to travel down that road again twice in one day, he fought off the creeping feeling of pandemonium.

"Mantis, I'm not a kid. I don't need to hold an animal." Snake said.

"Of course you don't. I just wanted to feed off of your negative energy for a moment." Mantis said. "Some of my patients actually enjoy holding something for comfort. You'd be surprised who does. That's why I keep these things around. But I don't care who you are, you've gotta admit that this raccoon is pretty cool."

Mantis tossed the other stuffed animals aside and brought out a raccoon. Snake looked at it and nodded in approval. There was definitely something different about this particular toy that appealed to him.

"That thing is pretty bad ass." Snake said, impressed. "Let me see it."

"I guess they must have spent more time sewing it." Mantis said.

Snake took the stuffed pet and examined it further. Though it was merely filled with cotton, the detail on the raccoon was incredible. Instead of being an extremely cheap imitation, this particular fuzzy object was quite realistic. It had to be an import.

"What's its name?" Snake asked Mantis.

"Twiggy." Mantis responded.

"Awesome." he said. "I can't believe I'm holding a stuffed animal. Don't tell anyone else about this, okay? I know you blurted out a couple of Otacon's fantasies, and I don't want the same to happen with my childhood memories."

"Understood. The only reason my tongue got lose with Ocelot was because we were at an oxygen bar and the clever bastard handed me a red tank full of truth gas. I should have known something was wrong, but I wasn't really in any mood to care"

"Truth gas?"

"You know, it makes you tell the truth? Hence the name?"

"Why does that device sound so familiar?" Snake asked, thinking about it hard. "Have I used it somewhere before?"

"Maybe it's a repressed memory, but that's not why you're here. Let me go off topic here for a second and say one more thing about Otacon. That boy is a shortcake missing twelve strawberries on one side and yet we all manage to love him."

Snake blinked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Snake demanded.

"Now it's time to start the therapy." Mantis said, ignoring Snake's question. "Since you're seeking a job, I'm going to take you through a couple easy tests. We will begin with word association. Due to your army training, it's a given you know what all of this stuff is so I'll not bother to review the instructions with you."

Snake nodded.

"I'm mainly performing this part of our session for personal gain as I've got a research project I'm selling my soul to, but it will also help us understand where your mind is."

Mantis waited a full minute before he began the experiment.

"Like."

"Cinnamon rolls."

"Skill."

"Porn."

Mantis blinked but scribbled down the results anyway.

"Kids."

"Duct tape."

"Metal."

"An object used to construct a weapon that will threaten the world which is controlled by a madman bearing an embarrassing code name such as Red Pimple."

Mantis bit the bottom of his tongue in order to not laugh.

"Safety."

"Desert Eagle."

"Help."

"Shrink."

"Excuse me?" Mantis said, slightly offended.

"Burp." Snake responded, thinking that the test was still going on.

Mantis ignored the insult and went on.

"Love."

"Hate."

"Yin."

"Yang."

Mantis sighed heavily. Snake grinned weakly.

"Are you taking this seriously?"

"Yes!" Snake assured him. "Quit whining, you're wasting my money. Keep going."

"Acting."

"Porn. . .again. Sorry. I guess I'm a pervert."

"Voice."

"Acting. You know, ugly chicks who sit behind microphones and play characters who are around ten times hotter than they are. Study that instead. There's got to be something psychological behind that."

Mantis ignored him and continued.

"Art."

"Deviant."

"Final."

"Level."

"Lighter."

"Aerosol can."

". . .Big Boss."

"Well done." Snake said, and he wasn't being complimentary.

"I think that's enough for now." Mantis muttered darkly.

Mantis looked over Snake's responses and decided that most of them weren't worth anything, especially that last bit about Big Boss being well done. He could have slapped Snake for that. Maybe that really had been the first thing that came to mind for Snake, but somehow he doubted it. What little he was able to salvage from the test was that Snake had a thing for porn, very little regard for psychiatric help, and a terribly dark sense of humor.

"It's over already? I liked that, it was fun."

"I noticed." Mantis said, trying his best to sound polite. "I've been informed that you are interested in working again. You say you'll give any place a try so long as it's civilian level work."

"That's right. I don't want to end up a police man like that one guy."

"Which guy?"

"You know. . .that one guy."

"No, I don't. Which guy are you talking about?"

"I can't remember. It's been a while since I saw him. I think he flunked out of the FOX-HOUND program shortly after they recruited him."

"Right, Snake. How would I know someone who was in the unit _before _I joined?"

"Good point. Anyway, he became a police officer. I don't want to do that.

Mantis resisted the very strong temptation of using his mind to throw a vase at Snake because he figured that Snake was just nervous.

"So what kind of job are you seeking?" Mantis asked.

"An easy one that will stimulate my mind."

"That's not very specific. If you could pick any job in the world, which would it be?"

"Well, if I had the answer to that I wouldn't be here now, would I?" Snake said.

The plasma ball move about five feet out of place and then slowly slid back into where it had originally been. Snake didn't seem to notice. He was concentrating too hard. Mantis realized that he was indeed being serious. It just didn't come out that way. It was a good thing he hadn't smashed that highly expensive plasma ball into Snake's chest. Mantis thought of another way to approach the problem.

"If I were to contact a previous employer of yours besides the government, what would they say about you?"

Snake gulped and decided to answer the question without lying.

"Not much. Some of them are probably dead by now. I doubt any of them remember me. I never held a job for that long."

"I should have known." Mantis said sadly. "But you have had an actual jobbefore, right?"

"What I haveis a lot of bad memories." Snake mumbled.

Snake covered his face with both of his hands and sighed.

"So you're telling me it would be very bad if I contacted. . ." Mantis went on.

"Yes." Snake interrupted.

"Alright, allow me to rephrase the question. What sort of skills do you have? What are you good at that doesn't involve tactical espionage action?"

Snake bit his bottom lip and thought long and hard about that question.

"I'm handy with a pick axe." he stated assertively. "I'm also pretty handy around the house. If something breaks, I can usually fix it. Most of the time, anyway. If it's not the damn heater."

Mantis consulted his notes. Everything that he was hearing tempted him to jokingly label Snake a Class A Fruit Loop. Under his rating system, Snake was one point beneath a Class S, which was a ranking reserved only for the craziest people he tried to help. Mantis usually sent those types of patients to Dr. Nanako in order to torture her because it was so much fun. Aside from that, it was becoming obvious to Mantis why Snake had once been a hermit. However, more questions were needed in order to draw a conclusion. He needed to give Snake the benefit of the doubt. Mantis went on.

"Let's try a different subject." he said brightly.

"Hold on." Snake said.

He sat up on the couch and faced Mantis.

"Is something wrong?" Mantis asked.

"Am I passing the test?"

"Snake, it's not a test." Mantis assured.

"Well, I sure hope I do good on it anyway."

Snake laid back down and put his hands behind his head. Mantis quickly glanced over at his working desk. Directly underneath it was a big red button that when pushed would instantly summon a crew from the _Happy Farm: Home Of Almonds_, the largest silly shack in Alaska. Sadly, it could only be activated when a patient was beyond help. He dismissed the thought and got back to work.

"Can you come up with some references?" Mantis asked.

"Otacon would vouch for me." Snake thought out loud. "Roy would probably put. . ." he paused. "Scratch him. I guess Ocelot would say some good things about me if I slipped him a twenty. If I gave Meryl a couple of sticky notes she could help out."

"At least you have three references."

"They're asking for three now?"

"Snake, they have always asked for three."

An envelope floated from Mantis' desk into Snake's hands. Snake opened it up and found a career placement quiz.

"That should put us back on solid ground." Mantis said. "I figured you prefer paper and pencil to computers, so you can take that quiz the old fashioned way."

"I need a pencil."

One floated over from Mantis' desk.

"You need to stop doing that." Snake said.

"Hey, buddy, it's my office. This way I can practically sit on my ass all day long and do next to nothing."

"I see." Snake flaunted the quiz. "You're really earning your money."

"You've got me there." Mantis said honestly.

"Can't you just dive into my mind and fish out all the answers?"

"That costs extra and I don't think it's necessary for this. I wouldn't remember everything. Besides, mind diving isn't easy. It takes time to properly prepare and if I'm not careful I wake up feeling like that person for a few days or weeks until I can flush their nuances out of my system."

"But it's great to be me, Mantis."

"I'm sure it is, but I like being myself more. Take that quiz. I'll be here if you have any questions."

Snake nodded and began the long test that gaged what type of job he'd be happiest at given his personal interests. Mantis returned to his desk and began going over some files while Snake was busy. The cool ambient music in the background was the only thing that kept Snake focused through all twelve sections of the monotonous thirty-minute quiz. Once he finished, Mantis quickly tallied up the results and figured in the scores. Snake did exceptionally well in two areas. He'd scored quite high in the authority section, but that was to be expected. He also seemed like someone who could become an instructor as he seemed open to teaching other people. Snake scored moderately well in the accommodation portion, but had written a stern rebuke at the possibility of working in food service along the margins of the quiz. Just as well. Mantis always avoided ushering people into food service.

In any case, all the data was now in front of Mantis and he wasn't liking any of it. After some thought, he came up with an answer that scared him. Snake needed some work experience and although Mantis' better sense of judgment interfered with what he was going to say next, it didn't prevent him from doing so.

"Snake, I think it'd be best if you worked for me." Mantis explained. "It will serve as a foundation for the future."

"Don't employers respect military experience? I could pretty much get any job I wanted if I mentioned how long I've been in the military, right?"

"That's probably true, but who would you rather work for? Someone you knew or someone you didn't know? This job pays good, Snake. I'm too nice! Those stupid Internet jockeys alone make damn near twelve dollars an hour and have affordable premium health coverage through Blue Cross, which sometimes doesn't mean much but it's a good thing to have."

"Internet jockeys?"

"The front desk maids." Mantis said.

"I see. Well, it's not the pay I'm concerned with. It's the work."

"Don't worry, it'll be simple, I assure you. Before we get into that, here's a copy of your results."

He handed Snake a copy of the results for his quiz. Snake examined it carefully.

"Those are your scores, obviously. For the time being, I'm going to make you an office aid because I think that might work out well. It will readjust you to the daily grind. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, why not? I'll work for you, Mantis." Snake said, nodding.

"Then in that case, you can come in on Monday at nine for some training. Does that time work?"

"Yes, it does." he paused for a moment. "Thanks, Mantis. I guess I owe you a steak, or something."

"Then that concludes our session." Mantis said victoriously. "Unless, of course, there's something you want to talk to me about."

"What?"

"You know. . ." Mantis prompted. "Anything traumatic you want off of your chest? Something in particular, maybe? Act now, this is a free offer. Consider it a gesture of friendship."

Snake shifted nervously on the couch he was still sitting on.

"Did Meryl call you, or something?" Snake asked.

"No. I looked at your mind while you were busy taking that test because I was bored. I barely scratched the surface, but you seem fairly bothered by something. You wouldn't chew on a rotten lime, would you?"

"No."

"Then spit it out! It'll make you feel better."

Snake's grip on Twiggy tightened alarmingly.

"I like animals, Mantis." Snake confessed. "Dogs, cats, lizards. . ."

"Ocelot's?"

"Not so much anymore. This had better be confidential, Mantis."

"You saw Ocelot killing a duck and it's giving you nightmares." Mantis summarized.

"Did you just probe me again?"

"Yeah." Mantis replied with a grin.

"I can see why Naomi and that other girl are so interested in filing an injunction against you. So what about it? Are you going to tell me that I shouldn't feel bad?"

"That's the best I can do without performing a complete dive. If you would like, I can have you pay me back with a favor of equal value in exchange for my services. I could pull that thing out by the bloody root if it's interfering with your daily life so significantly."

"Forget it. I appreciate the offer, but there's stuff in me that nobody should see. I'll get over it. Eventually."

Mantis nodded and continued to write down information in Snake's permanent psychological profile. If he ever came back, Mantis would record improvements and add extra notes. This was his way of keeping track of his patients. He did this for everyone but Otacon, who had already filled up three folders in his filing cabinet. After he finished up his personal opinion of Snake, there was one spot still left blank. The rank of Snake's mental health. He retrieved an elaborately designed marble stamp from the top drawer of his desk. On the wheel were alphabetical ranks that coincided with the mental health of whoever Mantis was evaluating. Mantis adjusted it to a D, three levels beneath what he originally wanted to give Snake. D meant that Snake was slightly more crazy than the average person. He had nothing to be ashamed of. He was just a weirdo. Without further thought, Mantis stamped the paper hard. A fat, red D bled into the sheet.

"What exactly was that for?" Snake asked.

Mantis jerked in surprise, causing the papers to fly everywhere. If Snake found out what Mantis had wrote about him, he'd be pretty pissed. About the only favorable notation placed on the sheet regarding Snake's sanity was that he liked Twiggy. Everything else was critiqued in a particularly dry fashion. There were plenty of jokes and responses countered with caustic wit all over the notes Mantis had took. The yellow piece of paper flew close to Snake, and just as he was about to pick it up Mantis' foot came crashing down on it.

"Damn roach!" Mantis shouted. "Didn't you see it? There was a roach."

Snake instantly jerked away. Fireworks went off inside Mantis' soul. He had just saved himself from having to make a very odd insurance call. As the session was now officially over, Mantis used his mind to turn off everything in the room and switch on the real lights. Snake took the indication properly and stood up from the couch, stretching.

"Well, I guess I'll be going then. You'll of course inform everyone that I will be working here, right?"

Mantis nodded.

"By the way, how are you and Meryl doing?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that? We're fine. You should stop by sometime."

"I'll see if I can do that."

"Good. All three of us can play Snake in the Box. See you Monday."

Snake waved Mantis a good bye as he exited the room. Once the door had been shut, Mantis scowled.

"Note to self. . .watch Snake. Carefully." Mantis told himself slowly.

Mantis tossed the file on the couch and then sat down in his desk chair. His head crashed into the desk in front of him. Doubt was setting in. In order to stave it off, Mantis slammed his head down on his desk seven times before realizing this wasn't getting him anywhere. Physical harm wasn't going to help solve his problems. On the other hand, hard liquor could. Mantis opened the bottom drawer of his desk. A large dark blue bag that doubled as a cooler was resting there. Inside was a chilled bottle of Everclear. Mantis popped the cap and took a long swig. That's when it became clear. Mantis had hired Solid Snake, an unpredictable and dangerous ex-black op's veteran. His mind revolved around instinct and caution. Still, Snake was a good man. Mantis kept believing that even though there was no reason to on paper.

"I've created a monster." Mantis muttered, recalling how he'd orchestrated the pain Snake had gone through with the talking dogs.

Mantis sighed and took another long drink, feeling the drink burn all the way down. He took another drink to soothe himself. Yet another was swallowed because the third didn't work. The fourth was just for the hell of it. There was no reason for the fifth. At that point, Mantis was no longer capable of driving home safely on his own.

"Oh, God. Oh, crackers! What have I done, Lord?! Please, please!" he begged, holding a clutched fist into the air. "Let Snake die in a freak accident involving a vibrator and a hair dryer before he comes to work on Monday!"

Then he passed out, bottle still in hand. His desperate prayer did go through all the required routes before it reached Big Man. Sadly, it was rejected due to violent connotations which were not supported in the rule book.


	3. Some Things Never Change

**Chapter #3 : Some Things Never Change.**

Snake was up and out of bed early. He hadn't been able to sleep the other night because he was far too excited about the new job he'd just been hired for. If what kind of personalities the customers had was ruled out, he had found a suitable place to work at without a jerk for a boss. The co-workers also seemed to be nice enough and Snake was certain that Terra would help him if he needed any assistance. As for Naomi, he'd be watching his back every time she walked by. Due to that nasty FOX-DIE virus, he trusted Naomi about as far as he could throw her. On the brighter side of the matter, Snake anticipated the everlasting joy of a desk-job, which included constantly shuffling papers around, helping out people who couldn't use common sense, answering impatient phone calls, and dicking around on the Internet. It'd be a piece of cake.

Even though Mantis had hired him on the spot, the purpose behind that decision never strayed too far from Snake's thoughts. This whole thing was just an experiment. Could he survive the job, or would he crack under the pressure? No, he wouldn't. Snake assured himself of that. He was going to take this opportunity and use it well. However, if he could find a better job after a while, he'd apply for it instead and leave the Praying Mantis. Money really wasn't a problem, but being entertained was. He wasn't going to wake up to a job he hated doing.

Finished with thinking, he walked into his bathroom and took a shower. This time he made certain not to trip on the soap. Once finished washing with a bar scented with linen freshness so he wound up smelling like clean clothes, Snake dried himself off and headed for his medicine cabinet. Inside were three very expensive colognes that guaranteed to screw up woman's senses, break them in, and attract them to him. Snake reasoned that for eighty dollars apiece, they damn well better turn some heads. He splashed some blue liquid across his muscled chest while being careful not to use too much. Having finished that, it was now time for some positive affirmation or as they called it in the army, a pep talk. Before every secret mission or trip to horrible places like Blockbuster or Target, Snake always gave himself a pep talk since it made him feel better.

Snake tensed, admiring his many muscles. He then pointed at himself in the mirror and said that he was the best there was and nobody else was better unless a clone of him was out wandering around somewhere without him knowing it, which didn't seem like such an outrageous idea at the moment. Moreover, it was time to show everyone that he could do something other than killing people. Goose bumps popped up on his flesh due to the excitement he was experiencing. Without Snake knowing it, Meryl awoke from her sleep on the couch, heard Snake yelling at himself, and figured her friend must be having an episode. She silently crept up to his bathroom door and realized he was just shouting belligerently at himself. He was getting real fired up. His hand gestures were elaborately overdone. Still, it worked for him so she wasn't going to bother him about it. It was hard to keep thinking like that when Snake started break dancing. Meryl quickly closed the door and leaned her back against it trying to ignore what she'd just witnessed.

At the very least, Snake was getting a lot of adrenaline. _And they say I'm weird_, Meryl thought bitterly to herself. She didn't regret the steps she had taken to move in with him. The authorities never did figure out what had caused the fire at her residence. Olga's technique was most impressive. Meryl couldn't have done it all by herself. She owed Olga a huge favor. Living with Snake turned out just as she had expected. She was happy and so long as she remained that way, which seemed indefinite, she would continue keeping him company. The time they spent together and shared with others was always productive. Bunking in the same house as Snake was almost like living with a best friend rather than a lover. That was not to say she didn't have feelings for him because she did. It just felt pure rather than complicated like getting all pissed because he never put the toilet lid down or her having a bad day because they weren't married.

With all this knowledge, she knew it was a safe bet to say that he had some feelings for her as well or at least enjoyed her company, which was enough for now. Meryl hoped that the truth would never get out. She wasn't sure how Snake would react to it. Those were unpleasant thoughts, so Meryl began counting her blessings. Finished with her subconscious monologue, Meryl went off to make breakfast. Inside the bathroom, Snake was so pumped up he could blow away twenty six Metal Gear Rays and still have enough strength to infiltrate a heavily guarded base.

"I am the legendary Solid Snake!" Snake shouted. "I make the impossible possible!"

He then went running through the hallway and headed straight for his front door, still yelling at himself. Yes, slamming this certain victory in the faces of all that knew him only as an espionage lackey would feel wonderful. Snake grabbed the doorknob with both of his hands and yanked it forward. A ton of snow blew right in as he leapt toward his car.

"Snake!" Meryl shouted. "You forgot to put your clothes on!"

For a moment he just stood there, paralyzed, gazing off into the snowstorm in front of him. Then he slowly looked down and saw what had been living down in the area between his legs since birth. Turning bright red, Snake closed the door, covered his area that needed a security level clearance code of red or higher in order to be viewed with a nearby rock, and trotted off to his room dejectedly. Meryl's eyes followed him slowly until Snake could no longer be seen. Meryl looked down at the bowl of Lucky Charms she had prepared for him. Without hesitating she dumped the bowl in the sink and began to search for something with not so high in sugar. It would be safer that way.

Inside the fridge was a left over Whopper from Burger King, so she heated it up and set it on the table. Snake entered the kitchen with his head down. His face was still red. He was dressed in black cargo pants and a grey sweatshirt. The veteran of terrible circumstances sat down at the table and ate his food in an embarrassed silence. Meryl found a container of green tea, added some spice to it, and then handed it to him for a drink. Knowing her job was finished; she headed to the living room to watch Spirited Away again.

"You're up quite early." Snake said from the kitchen.

"You woke me up."

"Sorry. By the way, why do you sleep on that couch? Is your bed not comfortable enough?"

"I don't know." Meryl said honestly. "I guess I like the couch better."

"I appreciate you making me food like this." he said.

"No problem." Meryl said. "Men have to eat. The only other thing they run on is sperm."

"Okay." Snake said after a moment.

Once Snake had finished eating, he proceeded to leave. Before he headed out the front door, Meryl stopped him. He turned to her, wondering what she had to say.

"Remember." Meryl began. "Anyone that can save the world can file papers."

He smiled slightly at her encouragement and nodded. Snake then exited his house, leaving Meryl to herself. Once Snake had pulled out of the driveway, she sighed deeply and put her hand to her head.

"How could he have missed a chance to kiss me?" Meryl asked herself.

In the worst case scenario, he'd be home and out of a job by five. Meryl shrugged at the thought, then went off to fix the home up real nicely just in case Snake did return defeated. If there wasn't any beer in the house, she'd have to make a quick trip up to the liquor store and buy about three six-packs because Snake would drink allof them if he failed.

**X**

"Good evening, Tokyo. Tonight we can expect a cool evening with overcast clouds." the announcer over the radio stated in Japanese, which Snake had no trouble interpreting. "Let us hope that other places in the world are also having such nice weather."

"Hope harder." Snake grumbled back before switching off the radio.

It was snowing hard, foggy, and dark everywhere. The only thing standing between him and a crash were ugly yellow lights that poked out from the curtain of misery to let him know that other people were out driving in this dirty soup. Still, Snake managed to easily find his way to the shrink farm. Bad weather had never really been much of a problem for him. The parking lot for the Praying Mantis was a complete mess. Nobody could see where the lines were so just about everyone parked wherever they wanted. Snake did no better. On his way to the entrance, a figure dressed in a hot pink coat came storming out of the front door. A draft of wind blew back the hood of the individual. It was Naomi, and a dark glare was on her face. Snake decided to ignore it and triumphantly declare that he now had a job.

He stepped in front of her and Naomi gave him a look that could rip through flesh.

"Guess who just got a job." Snake asked her in a slick tone.

"Guess who just quit." Naomi stated sharply.

For a moment the two stood starring at each other until Naomi pulled back her hood. She held his gaze a bit longer before she stormed off to her car, which turned out to be a shiny red Audi. Terra suddenly burst out of the institute, searching frantically for Naomi. As a response for Terra's concern, Naomi rolled down her window and let her middle finger fly. Snake glared after the doctor, knowing exactly what she was pulling. Naomi was refusing to work with Snake. In the past she'd tried to get along with him, but her kindness did not stand up well to his indifference. They both were at fault, but it was only natural. At least now Snake didn't have to worry about getting stuck with something.

Naomi made sure everyone present heard her leave by tearing out of the parking lot with her foot floored on the accelerator. Her anger was repaid with a spin out that nearly hit a cop car in the street. Naomi recovered and drove off in a very legal manner. The police officer soon turned on his lights to follow her once the initial shock of almost being hit passed. Life was certainly full of dark humor.

"You two dislike each other that much?" Terra panted out, walking up to his side.

"Let's just say she's not very trustworthy and because of that fact, we've got issues." Snake responded.

Terra shrugged.

"I didn't like her that much anyway. She's shifty. Anyway, follow me. You'll be filling Naomi's position." she instructed. "Let me clarify the situation for you first, though. Mantis didn't fire her. She resigned. Colorfully."

"I thought so."

Terra motioned for Snake to follow her. Snake did so and glanced back at where Naomi had driven off one final time before entering the building. Inside, Mantis was standing at the main desk with Dr. Nanako and several other attendants gathered around him. A really bright red mark was across his face, one of his eyes was black, and he was soothing his groin with a free hand. Tears of pain streaked down Mantis' face. Without even needing an explanation Snake had put together what had happened here. Mantis neglected to inform Naomi that Snake would be working alongside her until today and after some major protesting she felt as though she didn't get her message over to Mantis. Her concerns meant nothing. Mantis wasn't going to retract his decision.

That was it. In a fit of blind rage Naomi had kicked him in the nuts because he wouldn't listen to her and because she was tired of him reading her mind all the time. A slap to the face gave Mantis shame and a black eye would remain for some time as a testament to what had gone on between the two. Naomi had left a really big mark.

She was such a drama queen.

"What happened?" Snake asked, just to be sure he was right.

"There is a certain patient that goes berserk if he hears this one word and Naomi said it to get back at Mantis for hiring you. Then she assaulted him." Terra explained.

"You can't be serious. There's a guy here who flips out when he hears a certain word?" Snake asked. Terra nodded. "What's the word?"

Mantis squeaked and put a hand forward, trying to stop Terra from saying it. Dr. Nanako frantically waved both her hands and head in a halting manner.

"Cheese." Terra said.

Instantly she clamped her mouth with both hands and began trembling in fear.

"Cheese!" someone screamed from somewhere inside the building.

"There he is! Grab that stupid bastard!" a female voice ordered.

Mantis jumped behind the receptionist's desk and hid underneath it. Dr. Nanako pulled out a stun baton and stood ready to fight. Terra whipped out a taser, got into a shooting stance, and aimed for the hallway, which led away from the front door that was the only immediate exit. Snake tensed himself and prepared for some good old fashioned CQC. Kids these days relied too much on their damn pop guns. Getting down and dirty with an opponent only using hands was the old school way to settle differences. None of Snake's training had prepared him for what he saw next. In all his travels and all his years he had never quite run up against something as bizarre as what was before him and Snake had seen it all. Until now.

A naked man was jumping up and down while flapping his arms in many different directions, screaming the names of several different brands of cheese while advancing toward the exit. What made matters worse was that the guy was fast. Directly behind nature boy was the Squirrel Squad. Terra attempted to get a bead on the nut, but couldn't steady her aim enough. Even though she knew her accuracy would amount to shooting at a moving target in the dark, Terra fired anyway. The naked man took a spin, evading the barbs without even being aware of it. The barbs continued forward and hit the Korean girl with the most valuable weapon present : The straight jacket. This caused the main defense to crumble because jacket lady was in front. As her buddies toppled over her incapacitated body, the scary dude continued dancing.

As he came into the main lobby, Dr. Nanako lunged forward with her baton. She missed by a fraction of an inch and fell face first to the floor. Now the guy was right in front of Terra, still jerking randomly. Snake tried to grab him, but he couldn't. The guy was way too fast and moved around unpredictably. Snake waited for Terra to fire her weapon, but for some reason she didn't.

"How do you reload this stupid thing?" Terra cried out in confusion.

"Give me the gun and the cartridge." Snake instructed.

He got the gun back into action. Snake then gracefully took aim and shot the nudist directly in the chest. He immediately fell to the floor.

"Cheddar!" he cried out in agony as he squirmed around.

Nobody in the room moved. Snake expected the Squirrel Squad to be all over him. Mantis emerged from his hiding place and broke the silence by clapping his hands together.

"Congratulations Snake, you now officially work here."

Terra took the gun back and hugged Snake. He stood there, unable to say anything. Mantis laughed voraciously while nodding. Everybody else was also smiling and clapping except for the patrons, who were watching the Squirrel Squad cautiously.

"That was a test to see how well you would handle an emergency situation."

"You mean this whole thing was made up?" Snake asked.

"Yep. What you have just seen happens around here a lot, so you need to be ready for it, even if you are just pushing papers."

Snake gawked.

"Is this standard procedure for new employee's?" Snake asked. Mantis nodded. "Do you tell them to leave if they freak out?"

"Nah, I just like messin' with people's heads! The look on your face was priceless." Mantis explained with a wide grin.

"What about Naomi leaving? Was that a scripted event as well?"

The smile dropped from Mantis' face and he grabbed his missile silos again, remembering that he was actually in pain. Dr. Nanako cleared her throat and Terra stared at the ground while absently kicking at the carpet. After a long sigh, Mantis spoke.

"No, that was real. Naomi actually did leave." after a brief pause, he snapped his fingers and spoke again. "Terra, show him around. Everyone else, let's get back to work. I'm going to the break room so I can find some ice to put on my balls. Stay out of the freezer."

Mantis ambled off toward his destination with care. All the people present and working returned to their individual tasks. The naked man on the floor suddenly got up. He pulled the barbs out of his skin as if it were nothing. One was dangerously close to his nipple. Snake flinched when he tore it out without any regard for keeping his breast cap. After scratching his rear, the stranger took Snake's hand and shook it with the same hand he scraped his butt with. It was covered in a small amount of blood.

"Congratulations, big guy." jungle kid said. "You're the first person who has ever passed this little test. Most people run out the front doors screaming in terror when I do my act. By the way, my name is Kyle, but you can call me Kyle because we don't know each other very well yet."

Kyle walked off confidently, not the least ashamed of his underdeveloped body. Snake looked at his hand and didn't see any brown spots on it. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Come on." Terra urged, excited. "Let me show you what you're going to be doing."

**Two weeks later.**

While performing his daily duties, Snake began to reflect on how far he had come in the few weeks that had passed since he first got the job. He had started with his best effort and didn't stop. There were a few scary people who he could do without but other than that, Snake really liked his job. It wasn't the most challenging thing in the world, but it gave him something to do and kept him from violently collecting state quarters. Not only did the occupation give entertainment, it also boosted his self-confidence. Now he knew that there was something he could do besides military work. Then again, he had more discipline and patience at his current age as opposed to when he was a teen-ager. After all, he was an adult now. A rather old adult. With a mullet.

On the first day of his employment, Terra gave him a tour of the entire building. He was impressed by the extensive amount of doctor's working in just this one building. Terra said it was sort of like a private community. Apparently the shrinks even shared advice with one another on how to deal with patients they found difficult to work with. No psychologist in the building had a rival. When Snake asked why so many of them were in one place, Terra explained that certain psychologists worked better with particular patients than others. For example, Dr. Nanako got crazy cosplayers because she was a fan of anime and knew more about the subculture than anyone else at the institute. Mantis himself usually took in people with violent pasts.

The diversity in specialization helped increase the amount of customers the Praying Mantis received. This fact was later made evident when Snake stepped into the break room. There was a inspirational poster of a shooting star flying across a lake. The message on the sheet claimed the Praying Mantis had shut down three other clinics and encouraged everyone to keep up the good work. The tour continued with the medicine room. Snake obviously wasn't allowed to prescribe medicine, but he would be expected to retrieve it. Everything was in good order.

Another section of the building was devoted to a crisis hotline. There were other particular points of interest, but Snake spaced out about half-way through the tour. Training days sucked and he wouldn't remember all the info, anyway. When the day ended, Snake was given three books that all new employees of the clinic were required to read. _Crazy People Are People Too_ was one, while the other was simply entitled, _Emotion_. The final book was a simple handbook for employees written by Mantis himself. Snake was a fast reader, so he finished the books rather quickly. All of them enlightened him with the science of cognition. During his time at work, Snake was required to perform small tasks that required almost no thought, which helped him keep his mind blank so Mantis didn't go probing it again. All he really had to do was sit on his butt. He even was able to sneak some hentai in on the side when nobody was watching. When Snake really had to work, it felt silly. Snake handled the phone, made appointments, transferred calls, gave out medicine, filed patient profiles after having a good look at them, and flirted with his cute co-worker's, which really wasn't part of the job but he did it anyway.

The cute little college girls were super nice and seemed to enjoy his fit physique. Still, he somehow found himself oddly preferring Meryl over all of them. Even Terra fell short of his house mate. All in all, this new job was working out for him. He made sure everyone knew about it, too. The first person he had gone to was Otacon, who obviously received the news well but didn't appreciate the fact that Snake broke into his house to tell him. Roy's door was locked, so Snake crawled in through a basement window and left a sticky note on his fridge. Just to be funny, he left a message on Roy's answering machine while still in his house after stealing some snacks. Later on Roy called him and congratulated him. Up next was Ocelot, the person who had doubted him from the very beginning. After hearing the doorbell ring for five minutes, Ocelot decided to accept his defeat as gracefully as possible.

He opened his door to Snake and wore a flat expression. Snake explained his job to Ocelot while concealing as much of his own ego as possible. Revolver didn't even bother nodding his head and certainly didn't have anything to say to him. After Snake finished, Ocelot slammed the front door in Snake's face and locked it. Snake swelled with pride, satisfied with his gloating. He felt as if he were a giant, glaring down at all those that once thought he would fail. And so there he sat, tinkering around with the computer on a Tuesday afternoon, completely absorbed in what he was doing. Mantis came around the corner, saw what Snake was looking at, and tapped on the counter until he finally caught Snake's attention.

"You should know that it's against our policy to look up porn." Mantis said in disapproval. "Don't tell me that you're not either because I can see the drool sliding down the side of your face."

Snake grunted absently and minimized the window of the site he was browsing. The pictures really hadn't been all that great anyway. In truth, he was trying to stay awake. Looking at naked women always managed to wake him up. That's why he carried all those magazines around with him during his dangerous espionage missions.

"An image of a naked women only becomes porn when you get aroused by it." Snake said. "And besides, she still had her panties on."

"So that makes it not porn?"

Snake nodded. Mantis paused for a moment and dove into Snake's mind without permission to see what he had been looking at. He reeled back in horror and clawed at his eyes while hissing in disgust. Snake deleted his browsing history. Though this was somewhat futile he could at least deny his way out of embarrassment if Mantis told others what he had been looking at.

"Wow, I never would have thought that you frequented hentai image boards." Mantis said distastefully. "That kind of stuff is an extreme exaggeration of a woman's body. You'll notice that the important parts are enlarged to insane proportions while everything else is less detailed."

"So?" Snake asked bluntly. "The important parts are the parts I want to look at."

Mantis grinned in response to Snake's indifferent attitude.

"You really don't care, do you?" Mantis asked.

"It's better than coffee or reading one of your lame magazines." Snake replied.

Mantis snapped his fingers to regain any attention he might have lost.

"I'll have none of that in my clinic, Major Sticky Fingers." he ordered. "Give it up."

"Just give me five more minutes." Snake said. "I'm busy banning people. These idiots have so much trouble following the rules when they're drowning in the futility of their own lust. They need me more than they need that stupid CG set."

"You know, there have been some people out there who have studied how porn affects your mind. I'm not sure about the authenticity of the studies given where they originated from, but it's something to read." Mantis began. "They say that if a married man looks at porn he finds his wife less physically attractive even if it's just a little bit here and there to get by. That makes sense, doesn't it? I've found that when some men start making comparisons they begin to feel a little frustrated that they're stuck to one woman."

"Look, I was only taking a break from defending an image board from violations of its terms of service so I could wash my eyeballs. Do you mind? Or do you really want people to see stuff like this?"

Snake maximized his browser and let Mantis take a peek at what image he was busy trying to delete.

"This is why when I want a fake woman I look at one who has breast implants. Keep up the good work." Mantis said in response to the picture.

Mantis shook his head and walked away. Though he had a couple more images to destroy, Snake decided to quit while he was ahead and signed off. Ten bans was enough for one day. Terra suddenly appeared beside him and Snake breathed a sigh of relief. He was lucky she hadn't seen him being perverted. Snake didn't want her to lose any respect for him He wasn't exactly aiming at anything with Terra, but he definitely didn't want to be seen as a dirty old man in her eyes. Unfortunately he thought all that while staring at her chest and comparing it to some of the images he'd just paged through. Snake wasn't satisfied. The light bulb in his brain suddenly burned out. Mantis had been right. As usual.

_Imagine that. _Mantis said telepathically.

_You shut up! _Snake thought bitterly. _You're not supposed to be in here._

_Sorry, I forgot my coat._

_What the. . .how the hell can you leave an article of clothing inside someone else's mind?_

Mantis didn't respond. Snake sighed again, this time in frustration. He then began looking over some forums dedicated to guns because he wanted to school some noobs. There were way too many zombie topics polluting his forum in the off topic discussion thread. Terra suddenly gave him a tap on the shoulder, drawing his attention away from the message board full of people who really had no business talking about assault rifles just because they thought the weapon was sexy.

"I'm going to Dairy Queen for my break because there's no good food in the lounge today. Do you want anything?"

"Yes, please. Pick me up an Oreo Blizzard."

Terra saw him reach for his wallet. She shook her head.

"It's fine. I'll pay. It'll be my treat." she stated.

She turned around and headed out the door. The blinds weren't shut today so Snake was able to watch her as she left. Terra drove a black Corvette, which currently was covered in a lot of snow and probably wasn't really hers until the loan was paid off. As Snake was looking over a few important papers, the phone next to him rang. He took the phone from its cradle, cleared his throat, and punched in line five.

"Good afternoon, you have reached the Praying Mantis, this is David speaking how may I help you?"

On the other end of the line, Snake picked up the sound of blowing wind and heavy breathing. It sounded like the person was calling from a cell phone outside somewhere.

"I will speak with only you and no one else. If you transfer me to another line, I'll jump." a nervous voice stated.

Snake felt himself turn pale. He was dealing with a suicidal individual. A million thoughts rushed through his brain at once, each one frantic and full of anxiety. He was not professionally trained for this type of situation, although he had dealt with it before. With his current count at one out of three, he wasn't playing with decent odds. This was a job for the crisis center and even though they were only a button away the individual had made it clear that he only wanted to speak with Snake. Telling himself that he could handle it, Snake regained some confidence. After all, he'd been up against situations that were far more complicated. All he had to do was feel sorry for the person and try to guide them back into thinking rationally. Hopefully this time that would work.

But there still was a chance this person was going to kill himself anyway and that was sickening. Snake took a deep breath and chose to speak in a lower tone so no attention would be drawn to him. All he had to do was say the right thing.

"Okay, let's talk about it. Tell me what's wrong." Snake requested. "There is nothing that can't be worked out. Everything has a solution."

"Santa Claus isn't real." the man began. "And my ex-girlfriend broke into my house and changed all the locks. Now I can't get in and feed my fish. My boss makes me do things I'd rather not. I've got no respect and I'm not going anywhere in life. I should never have majored in music education."

Snake didn't know what to make of what he was hearing.

"What's your name?" was all he could ask.

"Anthony Stark."

Snake blinked.

"As in Iron Man?"

"Okay, I'm John Blackthorne. Call me what you want, it doesn't matter."

"Fine, anjin-san. Pardon me for being blunt, but I'm having a hard time believing you."

"Are my problems not good enough for you? Should my strife be more culturally centric? Woe is me, even the Internet hates me. I wrote a Tenchi story once where he marries the house because that house is beautiful. Nobody got the joke."

"Is this a Skype prank?" Snake demanded.

"Even though I have all of their recipes, I still can't cook like my parents could. My biggest monthly expense is toiletries. They cost me more than rent."

Instead of playing along further, Snake pinned this nit as a crank caller. No idiot in their right mind would kill themselves over something so simple.

"Listen, twinkie." Snake growled. "Suicide is a very serious matter. Don't make fun of it. Besides, if someone like you were in that kind of situation, I doubt you'd have the balls to jump. Go troll Rapidshare."

He slammed the phone down hard and rolled his eyes. College students were getting worse as the years went by. Out of all the subjects for a prank phone call, they had chosen suicide. That wasn't a topic to make light of. He remembered that Nanako had warned him just the other day about the large number of fake calls the institute had been receiving lately. If the prank had been about anything else, Snake wouldn't have cared as much. But to joke about suicide? That was somewhat sick. Snake had a small amount of sympathy for people who weren't able to solve their own problems, so he took the joke personally. Sadly, there wasn't much he could do about it. He chose to forget about it so he could avoid being bothered by it for the rest of the day.

Snake resumed working. He heard Terra pull into the parking lot. The noise her Corvette made was unmistakable. That's when he also heard the scream. It came from the roof. Snake linked everything together and figured that the person falling from the roof must have been the dude who had just got done trying to confide in him. Whoever had just called wasn't kidding around. A sick feeling knotted up in the pit of his stomach, almost causing him to vomit. He had just indirectly killed an innocent person. The same nausea Snake had experienced the first time he'd actually snapped a terrorists neck came rushing back, only this time it was a lot worse.

From the window he was able to see a man plummet to the ground, right through the top of Terra's car. A tiny cell phone followed his descent. It bounced off her hood and broke on the cement, shattering into many different pieces. Every person in the waiting area began screaming. The realization that this was all Snake's fault hit him hard and when Mantis found out about it, there was no telling how he would react. Snake giggled nervously and charged out the front door ahead of everyone else. Terra's car alarm was going off and the jumper's feet were sticking out of the top, still twitching slightly. Snake went around to the driver's side and found his co-worker was still alive.

Through the window, Snake could clearly see how rattled this incident had made her. Terra's face was twisted into a crooked smirk and her left eye was twitching violently. Her hands were wrapped around the wheel in a death grip. She was breathing as if she were in labor. Snake figured that if she wasn't already in shock, she was about two steps away from entering it. Since there was no one on hand to handle the situation professionally, Snake took it upon himself to see if he could help.

"Terra?" Snake said. "Can you hear me?"

"Occupational hazard." Terra stated absently. "That's what I'll tell the insurance company. It was an occupational hazard."

"Are you okay? Do you. . .do you need a glass of water?"

She nodded slowly.

"I take it someone was unable to stop a suicide, right?" Terra asked as a tear rolled down her cheek. Snake nodded. "Who was this guy?"

"Take a look in the back seat." Snake answered simply.

Both of them slowly looked toward back seat, dreading what they would see. Instead of finding a bloody mess that couldn't possibly be identified, they saw a man whose fall had been broken by Terra's hood. The body was stuck half-way in and half-way out of her car. All this person had sustained was a cut up face. Even though it was sliced up pretty bad, they were able to pin the jumper. It was Kyle, the same man who had greeted Snake completely in the nude on the first day of his employment. Word around the office had it that Kyle had a particular liking for Snake, but that was besides the point. Kyle's eyes suddenly popped open. Snake and Terra screamed in unison out of surprise. Obviously the fall hadn't killed him. It should have, but it didn't. Kyle began to struggle, but couldn't wiggle himself out of the hole his head had formed.

"Wow, that really hurt." Kyle said as if he regarded the blood dripping through his hair pooling out of his ripped face as a minor injury.

"Kyle!" Terra screamed in anger. "You bastard! Every single month you do something like this and each time you come out alive!"

"Then what would you suggest I do differently?" Kyle asked in a tired tone.

"Just die!" she yelled back. "That's what you're aiming for isn't it?"

"No, I'm afraid that isn't the correct answer." Kyle stated simply. "My cause is a bit more noble."

They waited for him to start explaining, but he didn't. Terra's jaw popped audibly. Snake was trying to figure out how he was still alive. Terra was about to open her mouth to demand a reason for this when Kyle finally began speaking again.

"There are many reasons behind what I just did. One of them is that I get an insane rush out of stunts like these. I've been doing stuff like this since I was five years old. One day when my mother was cleaning the house, she hit me over the head with a glass bottle."

There was an awkward pause amongst the group. Terra raised one eyebrow and Snake blinked. Kyle smiled.

"Actually that has nothing to do with the reason why I keep tripping off of the roof." Kyle stated, causing Snake and Terra to groan.

"Tripping?" Snake asked. "Didn't you jump?"

"No, I tripped. There's a difference. You see, it's awfully slick up there." Kyle stated as if he were giving a lecture. "But the real reason is like all reasons behind such occurrences. Someone has to test how effective our crisis hotline is. These past few months we've been receiving reports that it hasn't been all that great."

"So you're saying you call in to test the patience of whoever's trying to help you and if you don't like what you hear, you fall off the roof just to make the clinic feel bad?" Snake asked, trying to understand.

"My, you need to take a breath after such a long sentence." Kyle said in a patronizing fashion. "But you are partially correct, my grizzly looking friend. Perhaps this time everyone will learn a valuable lesson in discipline."

"You called the front desk, idiot!" Snake shouted.

Kyle sighed. It looked awfully weird with him hanging upside down and bleeding so profusely in the back of Terra's vehicle.

"You still weren't able to save me." Kyle lamented.

"Kyle, if the crisis hotline isn't doing its job properly, then you do need to do something about it. I'll give that much to you. However, why don't you just tell Mantis about it? That would save a lot of pain, don't you think?" Snake said.

Kyle's face dropped into a look of sheer befuddlement. He looked like he finally realized the sky was blue even though people had been telling him it was for years.

"Blowfish." Kyle said as if it were a curse word. "And I thought I knew everything around here!"

Snake heard the sound of approaching footsteps. When he turned around, he saw Mantis rushing toward the scene along with five other doctors. One was on a cell phone, probably calling the police. From the look on his face, Mantis didn't know exactly what was going on. He looked to Snake for answers first, but Snake shrugged. Terra glared at him.

"What?" Mantis asked, confused. "Why are you. . .damn it, somebody's dead!"

"It's Kyle. He jumped off of the roof and landed on my car." Terra said curtly.

"Again?" Mantis shouted.

"Tripped!" Kyle insisted. "Not falling, not jumping. Tripping."

Every doctor present groaned. Some flung obscenities toward Kyle and his overwhelming stupidity.

"Why is it always your car?" Mantis asked.

"How should I know?" Terra demanded.

"I always thought it was kind of funny." Kyle said with a grin. "You're bad luck, Terra. Dr. Mantis!"

"What?" Mantis yelled back.

"The quality of our crisis hotline has not yet improved."

"How come you just didn't come and tell me that in person?"

"Well, I know that now, thanks to Dave. He gave me his advice a little late, I'm afraid."

"Hold on you little string dick, _don't _call me Dave." Snake warned.

"Sorry, I meant David. I believe I might have incurred a head injury because I'm having a hard time concentrating. That's why I messed up your name, David." Kyle cleared his throat. "However, I still have made a valuable contribution to our work force."

"Kyle, if you're suicide threats were more believable maybe they'd take you seriously!" Mantis said. "What are they supposed to say to you?"

"I have not yet found the answer to that question. However, the moment I do, I believe our handy undergraduate student aids who are merely paid with the experience of working at a medical institution will be able to handle any and all problems from whatever troubled individual they encounter along the road, regardless of the career they ultimately choose to pursue."

"You need to take a deep breath after such a long sentence." Terra chided.

"I would, but the metal of your car is cutting into my chest so breathing is very difficult at the moment."

Terra reached over and slapped him across the face. She then whipped the blood off on the passenger's seat. The car was totaled, anyway. It didn't matter. Snake tapped Mantis on the shoulder and leaned in close.

"This guy is seriously disturbed." he whispered.

"Not even the best member of our suicide intervention team could tell him what he wanted to hear." Mantis said.

"If he keeps jumping off of the roof, how can you afford to buy his health insurance for him?"

"I stopped doing that a while back. Now he's no longer insured because after the fourth time he voluntarily hopped off the roof, every single company began avoiding him. Hell, he doesn't even get any mail or phone calls asking him if he needs a provider! That's how much they're afraid of him!"

"Mantis, he should be a patient here, not a worker. Why did you even hire him?"

Mantis wasn't exactly ready to answer that question. He put both his fingers in his ears and began to hum Crescent Blue Moon Connection by Ai Orikassa while dancing around in a small circle. Snake sighed and decided to ignore the matter, just like Mantis hoped he would. The real reason Mantis had hired Kyle was because he was willing to run around the office naked without having to be paid extra. Mantis needed a sick joke like this to scare away potential workers who weren't exactly sure if this was the job for them. As a result, Kyle was hired. At the time he was only wearing sneakers, just like the ad Mantis had put in the paper asked for.

It didn't really mater to Mantis how bad Kyle's past records were, he needed the guy because he did deviant things for fun. When used in the right context, this little quirk of his was useful. However, now all it did was make Mantis realize that denying how useless Kyle was for everything else could no longer be put off until December of next year. Mantis found himself forced to admit that his naked man joke would be discontinued shortly. Not only would he no longer be able to frighten tender new employees off, he also wouldn't be able to scare away those pesky inspectors from the government that went to medical facilities such as his and checked to see if he was charging too much for services. In addition to that, they had a highly annoying habit of asking him how he'd acquired his license.

That hadn't become a problem until the agents visiting him began to come prepared with those insanely irritating implants that made it difficult for him to manipulate their brains. Mantis sighed and looked down at Terra and saw that both her hands were tightened fists against her skull. Her teeth were exposed and clutched together tightly. Large tears began flowing from her eyes. Great. She was having a moment. Mantis helped her out of her car and Snake gave her a hug to ease the pain.

"Are you going to be okay, Terra?" Mantis asked, slightly concerned.

It took a minute for her to respond. Terra took a deep breath, unwilling to allow herself to lose all of her cool in one sitting.

"No, I'm not. Now I need to get this car fixed. My auto insurance company is starting to ignore my calls. I'm twenty four years old and I'm paying as much as a sixteen year old bitch whose wrecked her father's truck four times in one month! And not only that, whenever they actually fix whatever part of my car has been damaged, I also have to get a new paint job because the new part doesn't match the rest of the vehicle. I've had to repair this car seven times and I haven't even owned it for a year. And it's all because of him!"

Terra pointed at Kyle.

"Oh, knock it off. Look on the bright side. You've got a sun roof now." Kyle said.

"Why the hell would I want a sun roof in Alaska?" Terra yelled.

Kyle grimaced. Terra exhaled sharply and began shaking. Snake shook his head and spoke again.

"Don't worry about your car." Snake assured. "I can pay for it. I'll see what I can do about your bills, too."

Terra looked at him for a moment as if he were a savior, but then shook her head in protest.

"No, I couldn't ask you to do that. It's too expensive." Terra stated. "I'll need a new roof and a new backseat since there's blood all over my old one. Then I'll have to get another paint job. In total, I'm thinking it'll be at least five thousand dollars. I'll find some way to pay for it, Snake. After all, we make good money here."

"It wouldn't be a problem for me." he said, pressing in further. "In the past I had some jobs that have left me very rich. Right, Mantis?"

"Did you make more money working for hire as a mercenary or during your official employment with the government as a lackey?" Mantis asked, completely serious.

"You did what?" Terra asked, bewildered.

"Nothing, it's nothing at all. Mantis is thinking about something completely different." Snake assured quickly. "The point is, I've got more money than you may ever have. No offense."

"He's right, Terra. Let Snake pay for your car." Kyle encouraged. "Are you going to deny his right to earn karma?"

Everyone glared dangerously at Kyle.

"What?" Kyle asked, slightly annoyed.

Terra bit her bottom lip and thought about the offer a little more. Snake knew there was no way she could say no. She probably was in debt, anyway. She was single, living in an apartment, and probably paying off college loans in addition to other monthly obligations. But mostly she was single, which was ugly. In today's age, people practically have to get together in order to survive and it was only going to get worse. Terra lowered her head and refused to look Snake in the eye. The body language was obvious enough. She couldn't refuse him.

"Alright. You can help me by paying for the damages, but only if you're sure you can afford it." she said.

"I am. But don't go spreading it around. This will be our little secret."

"I heard about it." Mantis said.

"I did, too!" boasted Kyle.

"Hey, what are you all talking about?" some staff member shouted at them.

Terra and Snake slapped their heads at the same time. They heard the sound of approaching sirens. An ambulance was on it's way to pry Kyle out of the hole. A couple of cop cars appeared around the corner, guiding an ambulance which didn't appear to be taking itself seriously. After all, this was just another "pry Kyle's stupid ass out of something and find out who wants to press charges" routine. Mantis walked back toward the entrance of the Praying Mantis.

"Alright, everyone." Mantis announced. "The fuzz and miracle worker's have arrived, so let's all go back inside. It's cold out here, anyway."

"Hey, wait for me!" Kyle shouted. Everyone ignored him.

Everyone did as Mantis had instructed. The ambulance and police cars parked in the lot. Several paramedics and two cops stepped out of their respective vehicles and gathered around Terra's ruined car.

"Er, guys. . ." Kyle said, sounding a little nervous. "I can't feel my legs."

**X**

Kyle had only been gone for a week and already everyone at the Praying Mantis felt a whole lot more at ease. Because of what he had done, nature boy had been sent to a professional therapist at another building since Mantis and everyone else at the Praying Mantis refused to aid Kyle. A couple of messy claims came up, stating that Mantis deserved to be severely punished for not reporting his odd behavior sooner. There was even talk about possibly pursuing legal action against Mantis and actively investigating how exactly he got his license. They didn't last too long because the people who were bringing up charges against him disappeared. What was even stranger was that a day after they vanished, a garden appeared in Mantis' back yard. The fact that he had never kept one before probably might have been a very good indication of foul play, but everyone was smart enough not to say anything. Besides, his azalea's looked gorgeous.

Snake sat behind the receptionist desk, silently remembering Kyle. For some reason, failing to help him was causing Snake to feel guilty. Once again he told himself that even if he had tried, Kyle still would have slid. Paying Terra's car damages and having Otacon tamper with her insurance records in exchange for some snacks made him feel slightly better, but not by much. Snake was tense. He couldn't mess up like that again. What made everything slightly more miserable was that Terra wasn't in today. She caught a very bad fever. Usually her and Snake got along pretty well. Getting bored was a hard thing to do when they teamed up. It was important to note that there relationship only went as far as friendship, though. They never talked about taking it further because there wasn't a reason to do so.

Now all Snake had was a bunch of bumbling kids, Mantis, and the witty Dr. Nanako who usually wasn't seen outside her office. It sucked. At the moment, Snake had been delegated with the task of watching the front desk and putting a purple smiley stamp on every patient's file who seemed to be steadily improving. This task was incredibly mundane. Even Mantis knew that. He just couldn't have them get paid for doing nothing. Sometimes he could really be a jerk. Someone cleared their throat, and Snake looked up and saw an Asian male standing over him. He was wearing a fancy white suit and carried an equally fancy suitcase in one hand.

There was something very suspicious about him that Snake couldn't quite place.

"Good afternoon, sir." the man said. His accent was incredibly thick. "I am here to see Mantis about an important security issue."

Snake nodded and took out the appointment book along with a pencil.

"What's your name?" Snake asked.

"Phuc Ngu." the Asian man said.

"Excuse me?"

"Phuc Ngu." he said it again more slowly. "Phuc Ngu."

The pencil Snake was holding snapped in two audibly, along with everything else he had inside. He momentarily restrained himself from conjuring up some moves that could bust a fool in one hit. Perhaps he had heard the man wrong. Unbeknownst to Snake, the name was legitimate. It's pronunciation was not, because Snake heard _fuck you_ instead of _Phuc Ngu_. Either way, this situation wasn't possible. Nobody was dumb enough to direct that swear at Snake.

"Repeat that in proper English."

"Phuc Ngu." the man stated again, sounding annoyed. "Can't you hear me? Did I not say it loud enough?"

"Sir, please refrain from swearing." Snake stated. His hand formed a fist and began to shake on the table. "Tell me your name."

"Phuc Ngu, I'm not swearing!" he said. "You must be deaf!"

Snake's patience was running short. Inside the mental realm, Good Snake went bye-bye, crying freely as it ran all the way home. Evil Snake came in. The body it had lived in once before was awfully unkempt. There was a large vase on a table that had the word _moral_ written on it. Evil Snake shook its head, tisked, and shattered the pretty vase against the wall. Looking around its hosts soul, Evil Snake noticed another urn sitting in a corner. On it was _common decency_. Evil Snake shot it three times with a USP and then once more just to be sure it was completely destroyed.

There was something about the room that felt familiar to Evil Snake. Something that had once been out in the open but now was hidden somewhere. It destroyed everything, looking for what had once allowed it to function. Evil Snake opened a closet and a skeleton fell out. The object in question was near. After tossing the skeleton aside, it found a packet covered in dust. Once it brushed the brown package off, the secrets were revealed. Inside was Snake's old mentality along with a special book filled up with various killing methods, sneaking procedures, anti-social behavior techniques, and old kung-fu movies. All these old evil thoughts suddenly awakened in Snake because his angry side was back in business.

Back in the real world, a new light came into Snake's eyes. It was a dangerous white glaze that made him appear deadly. He had worn it before but stopped once he realized how ugly war was after seeing a few close friends blown to bits. But now it was back.

"What's your problem?" Phuc asked Snake. "I've got to go pick my other suit up from the dry cleaners. After that I've got to go shut down a church. Then I've got three city meetings to attend to. What are you doing today, you silly stupid?"

Snake slammed the appointment book in front of Phuc and handed him a pen.

"You check for yourself and show me who you are." Snake said. He pushed the book over to the man.

"That's your job!" Phuc protested.

"If you do indeed have an appointment with Mantis, I will fetch him for you."

"I've never seen such incompetence!"

"Are you trying to pick a fight?"

"Maybe I am! I'd whup your ass straight into actually doing your job!"

"Would you just cut your attitude?"

"Attitude? My attitude did your momma!"

Phuc actually spat at him. Snake instinctively drew back his arm. . .

"Wait!" Mantis shouted as he emerged from the hallways, drawn to the sound of Snake's altercation.

. . .and belted the ill-tempered customer across the face.

"Oh, God!" Mantis yelled, clawing at his face.

Phuc stumbled backward, swaying dangerously.

"Third time this week." Phuc mumbled.

He collapsed to the ground like a purse full of damp chicken eggs. As for Snake, once all the aggression went out, so did Evil Snake, giggling as it skipped away. Good Snake came in, still crying, and saw what had happened. It died from massive instantaneous heart failure, leaving Snake completely paralyzed. Everyone present in the waiting room began screaming. One patient began collecting money from several others. Obviously bets had been placed, which meant some people had actually expected Snake to lose it. Mantis felt his heart sink when he realized what had just happened. His buddy and hardest working employee had just gone back to the dark side and used the force. All Mantis could hope for was that his business relationship with Ngu hadn't been broken.

"Who is this guy?" Snake demanded.

"He's Phuc Ngu. I was hoping to hire him so that he would keep the feds away from me, my institute, and my history. He's Kyle's replacement."

"Wait, you mean he wasn't cursing at me?"

"No! His name is spelled P-H-U-C N-G-U. Obviously it doesn't translate into English properly."

"What?"

"You mean to tell me in all your travels and in all your years you've never run across a Phuc or a Ngu in Vietnam?"

"I. . .I knew a few Ngu's. But a Phuc? Never! Damn!" Snake spat through gritted teeth.

"Hell yes, damn!" Phuc affirmed.

Mantis ran over to Phuc and helped him back up, which wasn't too hard since Snake hadn't seriously harmed the man. Snake's head began to fill with negativity. Ocelot really had been right. Sooner or later, Snake would revert back to his instincts. What Snake had once been would always be inside of him. Stuff like that never went away. He sat back down and covered his face with his hands, remembering exactly who he was. Mantis didn't have any trouble noticing.

"Snake?" Mantis said. "Are you alright?"

"Each step I take is littered with the bodies of my enemies, yet I don't recall killing any telemarketer's." Snake muttered to himself. "I've screwed up so bad that I have completely devastated myself."

Mantis looked at Phuc and expected the worst. He was probably going to file charges or something. He'd heard of Phuc before through a couple of associates. The guy didn't have the best temper. He seemed to anger easily if things weren't moving along at a certain pace. He wasn't a complete bozo, though. So they said.

"I think I'm violent because my father never hugged me." Snake mumbled.

"It was Big Boss, what did you expect? A trip to the fair?" Mantis asked.

"I was raised by many people, but never by him." Snake countered.

Phuc cleared his throat and took a nearby tissue and pressed it up against his nose.

"I am sorry for our misunderstanding." Phuc said. "I should not have gotten so annoyed with you. I'm just tired of seeing people's reactions when I give them my stupid name. I sent in a couple of papers last week to get myself a new one, but they haven't come back yet."

Snake walked over to Phuc and looked him in the eye.

"I'm sorry as well."

He extended his hand for Phuc to shake. Phuc did so, but didn't put much effort into it.

"Well, I'll accept your apology." Phuc said. "But only because I've had this happen before."

"How did you get such a bad name?" Mantis asked.

"How should I know?" Phuc complained. "It was my parents idea! Maybe they didn't think I'd ever move to this country. Or maybe they gave me the name because they didn't want me to move to this country. It's hard to say, but I think they hated me."

"That's a shame." Snake said. "If it makes you feel any better, Mantis kill. . ."

Mantis read Snakes mind and picked up that he was about to reveal certain information better left unknown so he responded to the threat by ramming his elbow into Snake's ribs as hard as he could. All the air left him and he began to rub his injury while Mantis glared at him fiercely.

"I told you before, my cat was dying anyway. I simply put it out of its misery." Mantis growled, winking.

Snake nodded weakly and Mantis put a hand on Phuc's shoulder.

"Listen, Phuc. . .how about you come back later? I need to talk to my employee that hit you. When you come back, just use the name you sent in for, okay?" Mantis explained.

Phuc shrugged and nodded.

"Sounds good to me, but don't fire that man. This isn't the worse thing that happened to me. One time I was pulled over for speeding and the cop asked me my name. Use your imagination." Phuc shrugged. "You should see the scar."

"I see. By the way, what name are you going to be using?" Mantis asked.

"Irving Washington." Phuc answered.

Snake and Mantis blinked. Mantis nodded slowly and led "Irving" to the door. Once Irving left, Mantis motioned for Snake to follow him into his office. Once inside, Mantis closed the door and sat down in his large leather chair behind his desk.

"You're oppressed." Mantis stated.

"I'm depressed." Snake countered.

"You're both." Mantis concluded. "Why?"

"It was my fault that Kyle jumped off the building. I thought it was a crank call so I told him to go ahead and do it. I know I shouldn't feel bad about it, but I do. It reminded me of not being able to save people."

"Give me a break." Mantis groaned. "Though I am not pleased with losing Kyle, I think I'll find someway to live without him. Don't think you're the only one that he's fooled."

"And what about Phuc? I jumped him because he insulted me." Snake explained. "How immature is that?"

"Irving." Mantis corrected. "You jumped Irving."

"Whatever." Snake stated. "That was so terrible. I thought I wouldn't snap like that ever again. I guess I was wrong."

Mantis scoffed and shook his head.

"You're not perfect, Snake. That side of you will never go away. It's just the way you are. I suppose what upped the chances of it reappearing was your guilt about Kyle, but enough with small matters. Who cares? Not Phuc Ngu."

"Irving." Snake corrected.

"Look, let's not turn this into a Catch-22 conversation, okay?" Mantis demanded.

"Maybe Ocelot was right. Maybe the only thing I can do is blow up stuff." Snake lamented.

"Ocelot takes pride in watching other people squirm. His sharp tongue is his portable torture rack. Why did you listen to him, anyway?"

"Because I wanted to see his face when he realized he was wrong."

"Keep dreaming! A man like Ocelot would deny you ever were right even if you were right."

"Now whose turning this into a Catch-22 conversation?" Snake mumbled.

Mantis sighed.

"Are you tired? Is something else bothering you?" Mantis said, poking around. "Don't make me read your mind."

"Maybe I should have finished college." Snake pondered aloud. "I wonder how different my life would be right now if I had."

"Then go back." Mantis said. "You've got the money! Besides, plenty of people go back to college later in life. It's hard to stay in one profession for the rest of your life."

"I just wish I didn't have so much on my mind all the time." Snake said.

"Alright, that's enough emotion for one day. Anymore and you'll go overboard."

Snake stood up and placed both his hands on Mantis' desk.

"I'd like you to treat this situation as if you were not a friend of mine." Snake requested.

"I'd laugh at you." Mantis said. "Then I'd tell you to get back to work. The poor guy's name is Phuc, for God's sake!"

"Irving." Snake corrected.

"Will you cut that out?" Mantis demanded. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll try finding you another job. And I'll make sure there is nobody called Phuc Ngu, Jack Schitt, Heywood Jahblowmee, or any other name that can be confused with a slang term anywhere near you."

"Maybe I'll just take the next couple of days off." Snake mused aloud.

Mantis nodded slightly.

"That might be good. In the meantime, I'll see if any other jobs that fit your profile have opened up. I've gotta be honest with you, though. I've been keeping you here hoping you wouldn't leave because you've got such a great work ethic most of the time."

"I'm flattered." Snake said sarcastically.

"Well, if that's all, our visit has been concluded. Take off the next couple of days. I'll have a new job ready for you by the end of the week."

"Thanks."

Snake turned around to leave. He walked to the door, stopped, then looked back.

"Make sure you tell them what I did." Snake asked. "Both with Kyle and Phuc."

"Irving." Mantis corrected, giving Snake a taste of his own medicine.

Snake rolled his eyes and left Mantis' office. Mantis didn't tell Snake was that he pretty much knew everybody in town that owned a business so getting Snake a new job would be a piece of cake. Even if Snake was a deranged lunatic, Mantis could find a place to put him since all his friends were basically scared of him and would do whatever he asked to avoid having their minds manipulated. Mantis began considering the options Snake had. He'd been doing somewhat well in the customer service area, so maybe he could find Snake a similar position, only without so many people to deal with. He'd make a good delivery dude for the UPS, or at least a mailman.

Mantis grabbed a phone book and located the number for the local UPS building, which was operated by a close friend of his, Alex Wright. He had some connections that Mantis didn't for the time being and could be easily manipulated, partially because he owed Mantis a favor and partially because he knew what would happen if he refused to help. If anyone could squeeze an ex-mercenary into a federal job, it was him. Once Mantis got his number, he wrote it down and made a note to call the man on Friday. For the time being, he needed to sit on his ass and look important. Mantis put on his gas mask for added intimidation.


	4. Compromise

**Chapter #4: Compromise.**

Saturday came soon enough because Snake had come into Mantis' office asking for a new job on Friday. Before calling Alex he hurried through all his practically incurable patients so he could get some time alone. One kid was having severe trauma because he had just found out that anime wasn't real. Another guy was trying to break up with a Barbie doll. Finally some dude came in and muttered something so bizarre that Mantis couldn't decipher it even after reading the guy's mind. The individual then pulled out a gun and shot himself before Mantis could stop him. Fortunately, it was a squirt gun filled with red dye. Having been shown that display, he felt no remorse when he pushed the emergency nut button. After the very helpful Squirrel Squad arrived, Mantis searched for the sheet of paper he had written Alex's number down on. He located it, grabbed his cell phone, and then called up the UPS office. A very rude secretary sharply transferred his call to Alex. His old friend answered just like Mantis expected he would. Full of fear and paranoia.

"All the ads you have in the paper are still free." Alex explained quickly, highly nervous. "I've personally seen to it. You still have that full-page ad that tells people to go to your institution if they need professional help. Please don't mess with my mind! I'm still recovering from last time. My wife is still mad at me for whatever you made me do to our dog and my kids refuse to let me eat chocolate ice cream for some odd reason that they too won't explain to me. I can't find our pet parrot Squawk and each time I try to have sex with my wife, she slaps me across the face and mutters something about donuts."

In addition to running a delivery business, Alex also had some influence with the local newspaper, as his wife maintained it. For a brief moment Mantis asked himself why people were so afraid of him. It was starting to get kind of annoying. But then he remembered that nearly everyone who cringed in terror at the mention of his name usually did so because of something he had done to them. All at once he needed a drink so he pulled out his bottle of liquor and poured himself a shot as he held Alex's attention. In his mind he was vaguely becoming aware of how he always needed a drink at inappropriate times. Dealing with his own problems could be put off until later. He could even write himself in as a patient and therefore transfer one of his cases to a different psychologist, which would give him ninety more minutes to slack off.

"Alex, that's all in the past." Mantis said, figuring in his own mind that it was. "It's silly to think of something that happened a long time ago."

"You call last week a long time ago?" Alex asked harshly.

The man screamed in frustration, instantly realizing what a big mistake he had made by back-talking Mantis. He immediately began sobbing while profusely apologizing. Mantis had already gone through ten glasses of hard whiskey, and he was starting to feel a little fuzzy so he didn't really notice that he had just been insulted. Mantis became distracted. He began to reflect on how cute those Dead Or Alive chicks were that Snake was always checking out. Where the hell did they live anyway? Each of them had more beauty than any other woman he knew, making them custom jobs done only when a higher power or evolution got tired of producing the industry standard.

"Man, I'd like to get Lisa in a headlock. . ." Mantis said, still in a different world.

"Not my wife!" Alex screeched. "Please, leave her out of this!"

Mantis caught himself, turned bright red, and hurled his shot glass across the room like a dangerous object. He then quickly stuffed his bottle of booze where he usually kept it and cleared his throat, making a mental note to get rid of it later before his liver turned to stone or he got himself in trouble like he'd done down at the bar he and Snake visited two months back.

"Sorry, I was thinking about someone else." Mantis said.

"I'm free!" Alex whimpered gratefully.

"Look, I want you to give a friend of mine a job working for you." Mantis continued. "I want him to have it soon. Like next week or something. That's easy enough, right?"

"I can't suddenly create a position for somebody!" Alex exclaimed, becoming nervous again.

Mantis rubbed his temples, trying to decide whether or not to make Alex unzip his pants and run around his office like a monkey. It was possible, but Mantis didn't really feel like going through all the trouble to make it happen. Besides, Mantis never liked using the same trick twice so he gave it up for lack of a better plan. An idea formed in his head, causing him to smile.

"Wait! I changed my mind, maybe we can give this friend of yours something." Alex laughed with joy, knowing his mind was safe from tampering now that he was pleasing Mantis. "There's an opening for a driver to take care of the upper class section of the city. Maybe we can put him there. Who are you sending me, anyway?"

"His name is Solid Snake. His real name is David, but you'd do best to call him Snake." Mantis thought about Snake's performance for a minute before continuing. "Snake works very hard, but he recently had some trouble with a guy named Phuc Ngu and he inadvertently persuaded a nut to attempt suicide."

"Phuc? I play pool with that guy." Alex said. "And I thought my parents hated me. Anyway, about your friend Snake. I'm around ninety percent sure I can squeeze him in. He doesn't sound any different from most of the people working over there."

"You should know that he's trying to rejoin the work force. He was a professional soldier for a number of years until I had him work for me. I'm not entirely sure if he'll take the job. I just wanted to let you know about this before I discussed it with him so we have a mutual understanding."

They continued talking for a little bit more until Alex had finished gathering all the necessary information he would need to relay to his cousin. Once the two men hung up, Mantis went straight for the booze and began drinking it again, unable to bear with its absence any longer. He cursed the evil bottle from hell, hating how its sickening sweet taint had managed to conquer his spirit. With both hands he gripped the thing, one trying to heave it away and another holding it firm in place. Once he downed two large swallows, Mantis threw it across the room in a successful effort to rid himself of it. He usually wasted a lot of money by doing that over and over again with all his booze.

At that moment he remembered something which caused him to stop and not phone Snake. The route that was up for grabs was in the general area of Mantis' home. He'd taken many strolls along that place as there was plenty of scenery. He always noticed how the same mailman or delivery guy never appeared twice. He figured it out once he began to examine his neighbors. One had a dog that always seemed to get lose and chase after people it didn't like, which was basically everyone. Even worse was the fact that it was a lap dog with too much attitude.

Besides the dangers of irate animals, there was old Ms. Sanders, a lady who deeply missed her pets. She wasn't crazy, but loosing her husband ten years back broke her. Once Mr. Sanders died, all she could do was socialize with her pets. They all soon died as well, but she had them stuffed and acted as if they were real, always letting them outside and expecting them to come back in when she called them. Some things Mantis saw left him deeply sick. Lingerie was one such thing and so was Ms. Sanders.

He slammed his fists down hard on the desk, knowing that somehow something would happen that would make Snake uncomfortable. That stupid mutt alone was enough to make him revert back to his training as he'd equate it to running away from a guard dog. Mantis knew he'd have to call Alex and cancel the order. But where else could he send Snake? Before he could think further on the matter his phone rang loudly, snapping his train of thought. When he picked it up, a familiar voice greeted him.

"Word has it Snake is quitting. Can I have my job back now?" Naomi asked eagerly. She didn't even bother with an introduction.

"Where did you hear that?" Mantis asked, completely surprised. "He's thinking about getting a new job, that's all. There's nothing about quitting involved."

"I don't have to tell you! Why don't you read my mind and figure it out for yourself like I know you like to do?"

Mantis didn't like diving into Naomi's mind. It was too scary. All he could do was guess that she had a spy working somewhere inside the building. There were some people that actually got along with her. Maybe they relayed a couple of events to her that made her think that Snake was going to quit. In any case, Mantis wasn't really sure he wanted Naomi back after what she'd done a few days ago. Besides, he didn't like her all that much.

"I seem to remember you kicking me in the nuts." Mantis stated angrily.

"Oh, that was just for kicks!" Naomi kidded. "Hey, I made a pun!"

"Cut the crap, Hunter. Don't try and butter me up. I still hold a very bad grudge since every time I go to urinate I have to find my penis because my kabangers are still swollen."

"Do you remember why you hired me in the first place?"

That was a good question.

"No. . ." Mantis said, trailing off.

"Then let me refresh your memory. Have you recently had any chest pains?" Naomi asked, unusually interested.

FOXDIE. So that was the reason. It certainly had been enough to persuade him then and it was more than enough to manipulate him now. The threat might have been a simple fake, but FOXDIE carried a wager that was to heavy to gamble with. Just thinking about the word alone was enough to cause Mantis to freeze. Instantly he grabbed his chest and tried to recall if Naomi had ever stuck him with something.

"You've got to sleep sometime, Mantis." Naomi said lightly.

"Hold on, stop that. There's no need to get worked up about this little issue." Mantis stated, laughing.

"Oh, I agree!" Naomi stated. "I mean, what is there to get so worked up about? It's not like I ever tried to kill you. Yet." Her tone became sinister. "Look, I need work. You'll need a new employee to fill Snake's void _when _he quits."

"When?" Mantis said.

"Yes, when!" Naomi shouted. "I didn't stutter! Now you have a problem and I have a problem. Savvy?"

"Don't you have some type of doctorate degree?" Mantis said. "You've got to have some medical something! Wouldn't you rather put that thing to use?"

"I'm one year short on experience for the only job available that I qualify for. Everything else has been taken up."

"I don't believe that."

"Then do you _believe _in miracles, Mantis?"

"Not entirely."

"Well, if you don't hire me than you probably will want to change that jaded perspective."

Mantis sighed hopelessly.

"Okay, I'll hire you back. Just calm down and put away all your needles."

Naomi was silent for a brief moment.

"Well, I don't know how safe they can be hidden when I don't have a box to put them in."

"God, you want a raise?" Mantis yelled. "Fine, I'll hire you back _and _give you a raise. There, are you happy?"

"Yes, and you should be too. Call me back later and fill me in on the details."

Naomi hung up. Fear consumed Mantis as he switched off the phone and made a desperate run to his personal physician, ready and willing to have his first physical in five years.

**X**

Snake's alarm clock didn't since there was nothing to wake up for. That didn't stop Meryl from frantically rushing into the room thinking he was ten minutes late and knowing something had to be done about it. She couldn't just jump into his lap like last time since that experience nearly ended in death and left an extremely nasty bruise on her neck that made it difficult for her to speak. Snake appeared to be sleeping peacefully, though he did seem to be covered in a sheen of sweat. She sensed something was wrong due to the way Snake had carried himself the other day after he arrived home from work. He went to bed instantly without doing anything. No video games, no reading, no Adult Swim. Nothing. Meryl knew it'd be better for him to brood alone.

Maybe he had just had a bad day. Meryl had no real way of knowing unless Snake told her, which he hadn't. For a moment she simply stood in the doorway, both hands clutching tufts of red hair as she sought for a solution. There had to be some safe way of waking Snake up. She made a dash for the main living room and looked at the weapons inside Snake's gun cabinet, which he always displayed proudly. The cabinet beneath the main display had items inside it that were not quite as sexy or potentially lethal. She managed to pick the lock and found a stun baton that she retrieved. Meryl felt a little silly for wielding it, but she reminded herself that Snake was extremely poor with mornings. She didn't need to be attacked again. Shocking Snake wasn't something she was looking forward to, but it would need to be done if he woke up wrong.

Meryl found an air horn right next to the telephone. Snake used it to ward off unnecessary calls from the government, college students conducting surveys, and anyone else he wasn't friends with. She wondered if it could possibly bring back any bad memories. All it sounded like was a strangled car horn. What could Snake possibly associate a noise like that with? Meryl sighed and looked at the clock located on the DVD player. Snake was really late. He'd even have to leave without eating any breakfast. While creeping along the hallway, she prayed silently that Snake would wake up without any problems.

Her sneaky stealth walk his room bought some time, but there was no indication that Snake was going to meet the morning any time soon. It was hard to examine his sleeping habits. Snake always had a calm expression on his face while napping and he hardly ever snored. Usually there were no signs to indicate whether or not he was having a bad nightmare until he woke up screaming obscenities while heading straight for his gun cabinet if he didn't fully wake up before getting there. Snake had to be at least twenty minutes late by now. Meryl forced herself to switch on the prod. The device started up with a whir and a red light appeared near the top, indicating it was on. For a moment Meryl considered getting the riot shield, but that would take too long. With her other hand she held up the air horn and closed her eyes. It took a full minute for her to blow the dumb thing.

What sounded like a dying camel reverberated throughout the room. Near the back of the house, Snake's dogs began barking furiously. As for Snake, he shot straight up.

"Metal Gear!" Snake shouted.

Meryl cursed and brought around the advanced taser, ready to shock him. When his eyes centered on her, she thought briefly that by holding something so obviously technical that it might give him the false idea that she was actually a Metal Gear. Snake's mind worked like that. It was disturbing. Meryl hid it behind her back, being very careful not to give herself a bad jolt. Luckily her fear failed to manifest itself. Snake simply stayed paralyzed in one spot, gradually waking up. When he finally had he sighed deeply and collapsed back into bed. Everything appeared to be safe so Meryl advanced towards Snake, seating herself on the edge of his bed.

"Snake, you're late for work!" Meryl scolded.

"Mantis is letting me take a break." Snake muttered.

"A break? When was the last time you took a break from anything?"

"It must have been shortly after I fought with that second Metal Gear."

"You fought Ray?"

"No, I'm talking about the one Gray Fox piloted."

"Right. Did something happen?"

Snake sighed.

"I punched someone at work because I thought he was being an ass."

Meryl blinked and her eyes got bigger.

"Whoops?" Meryl said shakily.

"Yeah, big whoops. His name was Phuc Ngu."

"Him?" Meryl asked.

"You know that guy?" Snake asked. Meryl nodded. "Why is it that everyone in town knows this guy and nobody has ever told me about him?"

"You didn't ask." Meryl stated.

"I need to talk more." Snake groaned.

"I heard about him from Raven. He's a real shady character. I heard that he's a drug dealer. He's also allegedly involved in a sex slave trade, among other things."

"You mean the guy is a creep?" Snake asked, to which Meryl nodded. "No wonder he got under my skin so bad. I knew there was something about him."  
"See? You were right to hit him." Meryl explained.

"My fist does indeed seek out justice." Snake said, examining his hand.

"That's right. You could have kept him away from Mantis. He doesn't need any bad influences."

"He does need someone to keep the feds off of his back, though. I doubt he'd be in business for very long if they found out what he does to people."

"Did Mantis fire you?"

"No."

"Then why are you taking a break? It seems to me like you're only kicking yourself."

Snake reflected on what she said for a moment. She was right. Meryl scooted up closer to him.

"If Ocelot and Liquid find out about this, they won't let you live it down. Every time they see you in public they'll point and laugh. I've watched them do it to Otacon. Mantis wasn't even mad at you was he?"

"Not one bit." Snake responded.

"Don't run from your mistakes." Meryl advised. "You've just got to hang in there. Don't feel so bad about this."

The front door suddenly banged open audibly, causing the two friends to jerk in that general direction. Someone had broken into the house and was running quickly towards Snake's room. They both braced themselves for a fight but were relieved to see Mantis appear in the doorway. He looked terrible pathetic because he was shaking so badly. Instantly the psychiatrist was on his knees and practically in Snake's lap.

"I can't and won't let you quit!" Mantis said. "You have to protect me from Naomi!"

"Do what now?"

Mantis caught his breath before elaborating.

"Naomi wants a job back at my clinic. She's threatened to use FOXDIE on me if I don't give it to her. What should I do? Don't you have the vaccine?"

"No." Snake said. "Naomi apparently never got around to that."

"You're a real mess, Mantis." Meryl observed.

He scowled at Meryl. An idea suddenly crossed his mind. Mantis grinned stupidly and enacted an improvised plan.

"At least I'm not biding my time here like you are! Stop the act, Meryl. I said it once and I'll say it again, Snake. You gotta large place in that chick's heart and now I'm certain your futures lie together if you take your eyes off Terra."

"Terra?" Meryl stated, slightly offended. "Whose this other women, Snake? Have you been seeing someone else?"

"Not quite. They're just friends." Mantis revealed. "Go on and tell Snake how you planned the whole thing out so meticulously. Show him the notebook full of all your idea's. Tell him how you dream about him every night dancing around in a thong."

Snake scoffed. Mantis gasped in offense.

"Don't you tell me that you couldn't see through this!" Mantis declared. "Everyone else did the moment you two started rooming together!"

"I thought it was a little suspicious at first, but I gradually came to realize that it was part of some ploy."

Such tricks ran in Campbell's family. Snake didn't dare say that out loud for fear of his life.

"Your ambivalence has prolonged her act, Snake." Mantis chided. "Tell her how much you like her and that every single night _you _dream of her dancing around in a thong if it's not one of them spaghetti string bikini's. You two should find out whether or not you actually like each other so you can get on with your lives. Don't even try to say anything otherwise. No objections, you ninnies. I'm the real deal. I know all of your inner thoughts." He began getting nervous again. "That's why I am more than certain that Naomi wants to kill me. She has never really liked me all that much."

A brief pause ensued. Both Meryl and Snake were thinking over what Mantis had just revealed. Mantis, however, was still in anguish over the whole FOXDIE threat. He noted the two were having a moment and buried his face into the side of Snake's bed, groaning loudly. Hopefully there little drama scene wouldn't go on for to long. Meryl appeared to be slightly ashamed of herself while Snake had a look on that suggested he knew it all along. He patted Meryl on the shoulder reassuringly.

"If you still need to stay here to get back on your feet, you're more than welcome to do so. I enjoy your company, but I can't understand why you like to hang around me so much. I'm almost twenty years older than you."

"It has to do with the female psych, which is something I've never been able to understand, which says quite a bit." Mantis interjected instantly, quite irritated. "You also basically saved her life, which carries quite a lot of weight. Observe while I test your compatibility."

Mantis held out his hands in front of them and made weird noises while waving his fingers at them. It was clear that their minds were being read. Mantis was just making a show about it.

"It looks like you two haven't done anything other than keeping each other company, but if you two took it to the next level you would obviously have a lot of fun. The advanced aging Snake suffers from might hinder that, but think of the memories both of you would share. Snake, all you need to do now is remove your concerns over the age difference and how things will play out once you start getting old in a hurry. Otherwise, remain very respectable roommates and share enlightened perspectives with one another over many intense games of Othello."

"I hate that game." Meryl said.

"I was speaking metaphorically. I now pronounce you boyfriend and girlfriend. There! See, Snake? I helped you so you help me, right? I scratched your back and now it's time for you to scratch mine! Think of the favor I'm asking! It outweighs the service I just did for you! You practically have to pay me back!"

Mantis grabbed Snake by the collar and hoisted him up with his mental powers. He couldn't do it on physical strength alone.

"You're gonna get your ass over to my institution bright and early tomorrow morning, chuckles, because I can't die yet! I still have to attend TGS sometime before my life ends!" Mantis said. "We've got to do something about Naomi! In exchange for your help, I'll give you all the cardboard boxes you want. I'll even throw in Twiggy."

"Maybe we can reason with her?" Snake suggested. "I think I know why she's so mad. By the way, would you put me down?"

Mantis let Snake drop into his bed. A loud car horn blaring outside momentarily disrupted everyone. Mantis cursed and began pacing back in forth, chewing the fingernails of his right hand nervously. Snake got up, drew back his curtains, and looked outside. Ocelot's beast of a vehicle was in the middle of the street. He had his window rolled down and he motioned for Snake to open his.

"Look, it's Snake! Everybody point and laugh!" Ocelot shouted. "How's your job?"

"I knew it would come to this." Meryl stated.

"Yeah, whoopee. So you're psychic." Mantis growled sarcastically. "Try bending a spoon next and you'll really impress me."

"Go bend yourself." Meryl stated coldly.

"Screw you. I'm not the one who had to burn down a house for attention." Mantis shot back.

"Can't you just dive into Naomi's mind and know for certain if she's going to do something bad to you or not?"

"There are far more worse things she could do to me that do not involve FOXDIE. It is likely that she will take that route instead. Of that, I can be certain."

Snake cleared his throat before speaking.

"My job is just fine. I wasn't fired. I'm just taking a break." Snake shouted back.

Ocelot gawked openly, totally surprised.

"But Naomi said you got fired!" Ocelot whined loudly.

"She's just jumping to conclusions." Snake said.

"Damn, it! Now what am I going to do now for fun?" Ocelot spat. "Let's go the mall and run over the theater rejects." Liquid suggested. "Okay, but only for an hour or so." Ocelot agreed.

The reverberations Ocelot's vehicle made while it kicked into high gear and shot off shook the ground clear to Snake's home.

"Yes." Snake muttered to himself. "That is indeed quite unsettling."

He began walking out of the room, but Mantis grabbed him.

"Wait, where do you think you're going?" Mantis demanded.

"To call Naomi and straighten out a few things."

"She's dangerous! Shouldn't you run around her house and throw grenades into her windows until the life bar runs out? You once took down hell on bipedal legs with around thirty plastic explosives and the best thing you can think of in this situation is to talk your way out of it?" Mantis said, his voice becoming louder as he finished the sentence.

"Yup." Snake said.

**X**

The root of Naomi's recent hatred for Snake all had to do with that turkey incident. She knew when she wasn't wanted and what Snake had done in that supermarket left her feeling quite wounded. Snake hadn't expected for that to happen. After a very intense conversation, they agreed to bear each other's presence for the sake of Mantis. The actual problem had nothing to do with him, so his celebration dance wasn't received well by Snake. Mantis was so overjoyed that he tried to kiss Snake, but that broke up really quick. It all amounted to one thing. Naomi got a better job.

Naomi was briefly employed at Burger King as the district manager because she couldn't find a better position. What that really meant was she was forced to whore her intellect out to a previously unthinkable level of idiocy. Her fellow employees thought licking the tomatoes and urinating in the pickle jars was great fun. At one point she was even invited to one of their parties, which she dumbly agreed to attend. Past beginning to play strip poker, her mind was blank. Naomi only remembered waking up at the other side of town in bed with a plant. In one hand she held seven hundred dollars and in the other a royal flush.

Whatever they had done to her was a mystery, and she was not happy at their stubborn stand on not telling her anything. Several of them died of heart attacks a short time later. The remaining lot quit and went into hiding but she found them anyway. Now she was fresh out of lethal viruses. It wouldn't take her long to make more as she had a laboratory in her basement, complete with bio-hazard suit and a confinement chamber, where Naomi used funky robot arms to mix highly explosive chemicals together. Meanwhile, Meryl had asked Mantis and Snake not to spill the beans on her sudden revelation. She didn't want anyone else to know about it. Snake still allowed her to live with him. The rules hadn't changed. She was free to leave whenever she wanted.

And so everything had been set straight. Snake was at work, sitting next to Naomi, who was also at work because they were at work, which makes perfect since because if they weren't working and they were at work, Mantis would yell at them for not working at work. Currently Snake was going through applications and ruling out the bad ones, which was easy since none had gained a good opinion with him. His eyes fell across a letter bunched in with the desperate documents that was addressed to Mantis. Irving, once known as Phuc Ngu, had sent in a letter. Snake sighed, relieved the man had gotten a new name. He placed the envelope aside. Mantis could pick it up himself a little later.

"Phuc Ngu." Snake muttered to himself. "The only time it'd be safe to use that title is when you're picking up a slut and they ask your name to which they would respond, that's the general idea, stud."

Today was turning out to be rather manageable. The crowd in the waiting room wasn't too bad for a Monday. The only scary member in the house was a nudist who felt that all of life's problems could be solved if everyone was naked. He'd gained five followers before Mantis forced him to put some clothes on and immediately transferred him to Dr. Nanako, smiling sardonically in the process. Nanako popped some more pain pills before leading the half naked individual into her office. Snake leaned back in his chair and sighed in relief, finally glad that for once everything had returned to normal. The bells tied to the door that signaled a new customer sounded, and chinging spurs gave away the visitor. Revolver Ocelot strutted up to the front desk, looking over at Snake in a bemused manner.

"Well, well." Liquid mused. "I am quite bemused, hence the description just given by the author. Looks as though you've got everything under control, doesn't it? If I didn't hate you, I'd say you seem to be doing a good job." Liquid slammed his hands on the counter in front of Snake. "But you will mess up! It's in our blood to do that, you know. Just as our father failed, so shall we!"

"So I take it you never want to be friends?" Snake asked. Liquid didn't answer. "What a pity."

"The only reason we came here was to see if you weren't telling a lie." Ocelot explained. "It was a waste of time, really. But I must give you the benefit of the doubt, Snake. Good job."

"Don't you use my lips to compliment that stupid bastard!" Liquid roared.

"Bruce?" A waiting patient said.

"Jimmy?" Another stated.

"It's that one guy from the mall!" some small kid shouted.

Liquid used Ocelot's body to turn around and hold up both hands.

"Stay back or I'll kill all you social misfits." Liquid warned. "No autographs!"

Before the idiotic mob could continue, the harsh sound of screeching tires coming from the parking lot gained everyone's undivided attention. The noise came from a battered old jeep with a virtually untouched anime decal on the hood. It was Otacon's other car. He quickly got out from it and ran toward the front entrance, panting heavily. He threw himself on the front desk and looked at Snake, not bothering to catch is breath.

"Mei Ling's boyfriend." Otacon gagged out, setting up the topic.

"The mystery man?" Ocelot asked, interested. "What about him?"

"Okay, so I'm stalking them in a cardboard box again for the third time, right?" Otacon said, to which they both nodded. "I didn't get a good glimpse until after it was all over. Her boyfriend. . ." Otacon wheezed. "Is Raiden!"

Snake and Ocelot gasped in disbelief. In the background, a woman screamed.

"Wait until Rose finds out." Snake said.

"She never will, because I'm going to kill that lucky son of a bitch!" Liquid roared.


End file.
